


Choices

by gunmetal_ring



Series: Choices [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 53,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunmetal_ring/pseuds/gunmetal_ring
Summary: Carol's sick of not having choices.(AU where Carol leaves Ed and Sophia's placed in foster care.)
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier, Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes
Series: Choices [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179311
Comments: 11
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Domestic/child abuse is mentioned in passing - for context, Sophia and Carl are around 8 years old. I promise this is lighthearted and everything ends up happy! But I can't promise this is actually representative of how family court goes... suspension of disbelief is key just in case! 
> 
> Crossposted at Ninelives!

Carol's not-really-watching some stupid zombie television show when the phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Carol, how's it going?"

Carol sighs. "It's going. How about you?"

She hears the grin in Lori's voice when she says, "Pretty good. Rick finally got a reservation at that new Italian place for our date last night, so dinner was wonderful."

Carol shifts the phone onto her other shoulder while she reaches for the remote to turn down the volume. There's only so much shrieking she can expect Lori to accept in the background. "Oh, nice! It looked good."

"Yeah, it was." And to answer the question that Carol doesn't want to ask, she adds, "We got a sitter, don't worry."

"Who was it?"

Carol had babysat for Carl a few times over the years, but only ever as a last resort. Ed didn't much care for company, and the usual girl Lori and Rick relied upon had left for college a month or so ago. "Daryl, Rick's friend."

What? "Daryl?"

She can hear the deliberately soothing tone lacing itself through Lori's answer. "Yes. He's a very sweet guy, we've known him for a while now and Carl really loves him. Sophia really liked him, too."

Carol barely manages to hold back her scoff. "Well, isn't that just dandy."

Lori sighs. "Carol. I promise. I would never put the kids in a dangerous situation, you know that." When Carol doesn't answer, she adds, "Look, why don't I invite him during visitation this weekend? Give you a chance to get to know him."

Carol wants to shout _No, I'm sick of not having choices, I'm sick of playing by everyone else's rules, I'm sick of not having a say in how my daughter is raised_ , but Lori doesn't deserve that. And it's not like that would change anything, anyway.

So instead, she says, "Yeah, fine. I gotta go."

She hangs up without saying goodbye.

\--

When Daryl gets the call from Lori asking for him to come over for lunch next Saturday, he doesn’t think much of it. But then Lori says, "Sophia's mom, Carol, will be there. She wanted to meet you after I told her you'd babysat the kids last week."

Daryl snorts. "She don't think too highly of my skills, huh?"

Lori says, "No, of course that's not it, Daryl. I think she just doesn't really trust men right now, especially men that she doesn't know. _Especially_ when they're taking care of her daughter."

Oh. Right.

Daryl clears his throat. "Yeah, well. Anyway. Sure, I'll come over."

They hang up, and Daryl doesn't give it another thought.

\--

Saturday morning rolls around and he's showered, dressed, and picking up some of Carl's favorite candy at the store before he drives over to Lori's.

He'd spent quite a bit of time fretting over his outfit, uncharacteristically anxious about his appearance. All of his jeans are faded and a lot of them are starting to tear in the knee, and most of shirts are old flannels or work shirts with oil stains that he's never been able to scrub out. Not to mention the fact that half of them have the sleeves ripped off, anyway.

He's more or less resigned himself to the sloppy redneck look he's sported for the past thirty-odd years. Leopard can't change its spots, and all that. He doesn't love the initial judgments that most people make about his character as a result, but the idea of buying _slacks_ and _dress shirts_ and whatever fancy corporate bullshit made his skin crawl.

But he'd wanted to make a good impression today - women like Carol deserve some peace of mind wherever they can get it, and if that meant that he had to spruce himself up a little to put her at ease, then fine.

So he had decided on one of his cleaner flannels with only one button missing at the top, and a pair of jeans with the knees still intact. But sitting outside Lori's house, with a bag full of sugar and an unfamiliar car in the driveway, he's suddenly conscious of his too-long hair and the graying grease smears on his palms and the unkempt scruff on his face. He should have gotten a haircut or shaved or something. And he needs to buy some kind of industrial-strength soap or something to strip the first layer or two of skin off his hands - they're looking more and more like Axel's every day.

He shudders at the thought.

Well, nothing much he can do about it now. So he gathers up his nerve, gets out of the car, and knocks on the door.

"It's open!"

He lets himself in and is almost immediately accosted by Carl.

"Did you bring the candy again?!"

Daryl cringes. "Pipe down! Mom's not s'posed to know 'bout that, remember?"

He sees Sophia standing a few feet back, clearly torn between running away and hugging him.

He helps her out, and waves at her instead. "Hey there, li'l miss. How y'doin'?"

She smiles, and Carl repeats himself, bringing his voice down a centimeter of a decibel. " _Did you bring the candy again_?!"

"Boy, don't you know nothin' 'bout keepin' your damn mouth shut? Good lord," Daryl grumbles, just as Lori starts scolding him from the kitchen.

"Daryl, don't tell me you're the reason why Carl got in trouble with the dentist on Thursday. Please."

He decides to face the music, and walks in with his head ducked. "Yeah, prob'ly," he says, a little sheepish. "Made him brush his teeth, though, figured that'd make up for it."

Lori rolls her eyes and wordlessly beckons to Daryl, and he tosses her the bag of candy.

"Aww," he hears Carl whisper, and Lori turns his glare on him.

" _You_ are gonna ruin your appetite, anyway. Here, have some grapes, make sure to share them with Sophia. Lunch'll be ready in five."

At that, Rick comes down the stairs, the kids run outside, and an unfamiliar woman walks out of the bathroom.

Rick claps Daryl on the shoulder. "Hey, brother, glad you could make it." He gestures to the woman. "Daryl, meet Carol, Sophia's mom. Carol, Daryl."

Carol just crosses her arms and nods at him.

"How d'you do," Daryl mumbles, cheeks turning pink at the less-than-friendly welcome.

Lori seems to sense the tension. "Carol, would you mind dressing the salad? And Rick, go set the table. What would you like to drink, Daryl?"

"Uh, water's good."

Rick nods to Carol. "And you?"

"Yes, water's fine, thank you." She flashes Rick a faint smile, and he returns it.

Daryl's about to offer his help, but he catches a glimpse of Carl and Sophia running away from something in the backyard, and walks outside to check.

When they see him, they make a beeline towards him, fear clear on their faces. He feels the pit of his stomach drop. "Whoa, what's goin' on?"

They press themselves up against the wood of the door, as far away from the backyard as they can get without going inside. Sophia tells him, in a wavering voice, "There's a big snake, we tried to play with it but it was too big for the stick and it just started chasing us and I don't know where it went." She and Carl are barely holding back tears. Poor kids.

Daryl kneels down, face-to-face with them. "Hey, s'okay. Go on inside, help your mom set the table, I'll take care of it and be right back."

They nod and slam the door behind them.

He sighs, grabs a baseball bat laying discarded next to the house, and trudges over to the area of the yard where the kids started running.

They weren't kidding - damn thing is probably half their size, laying on the sorriest excuse for a twig they could have picked to poke at it. He sees a fallen branch, thick and forked, and snaps it so there's a tiny V at the bottom. Perfect size for a snake head.

He circles around to the back of the snake, creeping quiet as he can, and sneaks up behind it, pinning it in place with the stick and bringing the baseball bat down on its head.

Gross.

He wipes the splatter off the bat onto the grass, and uses the stick to roll the snake closer to the woods. As he's heading back to the house, he notices two little sets of eyes on him, ducking as soon as they see him looking at them.

When he opens the door, they're sitting at the table, looking angelic and extremely occupied with waiting patiently for their mothers to serve lunch.

He scoffs, and points at them. "Not buyin' that act for a second."

Lori's washing her hands at the sink, and absentmindedly asks, "Hmm?"

Carl and Sophia don't miss a beat. "Nothing!"

Daryl rolls his eyes, but asks, "Need help with anythin'?"

Lori and Carol bring over the sandwiches and salad. "Yeah, could you bring silverware please?"

"Yes ma'am," he replies, ever the good Southern boy, and grabs it before he sits down next to Rick.

He doesn't miss Carol squeezing Sophia's hand just before serving her.

They eat, punctuated by small talk about Daryl's garage and Rick's recent hire and the upcoming third-grade class field trip to the planetarium and reprimanding Carl for chewing with his mouth open.

Daryl doesn't miss the fact that there's no small talk about what's going on in Carol's life, either.

He helps clean up, hangs out for a little longer, but doesn't want to take any more time away from Carol and Sophia's visitation, so he says his goodbyes and nods to Carol.

He gets a nod back, but no crossed arms this time, which is probably good.

As he drives home, he thinks he made a decent impression - and considering what little he knows about her husband, he's certain that it could have been worse.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, just as Carol's walking through her door, she gets a call from Lori.

"Hey, Lori, how are you?"

"I'm good. You doing okay?"

Carol shrugs out of her jacket and hangs it up on the hook near the door. "Fine, you know. Just got out of the parenting class."

"Ah. That getting any better?"

Carol instinctively shakes her head. "No. I mean, it is what it is. I already know everything they're explaining, so." She blows out a sigh. "At least this way they won't have anything to say about my parenting skills."

"Yeah." They're quiet for a moment, and then Lori asks, "So? What did you think of Daryl?"

Carol sits on the sofa and tugs a pillow into her lap. "Um, he's fine, I suppose. Kind of quiet."

She can hear the smile in Lori's voice. "Does that mean he's allowed to babysit?"

Carol lets out a humorless laugh. "Not like I have much say in the matter." Before Lori can respond, she hastily adds, "Not that I'm blaming you, or anything. If you trust him, I'd rather go on that instead of finding some stranger. Just..." She trails off, not knowing how to articulate her thoughts without offending Lori.

Lori sighs. "I know, Carol. I'm sorry." A beat passes, and she says, "Sophia really likes him."

Carol shifts her phone to her other hand. "That so?"

Lori chuckles. "Yeah, every day since he sat for them, she's asked if Mr. Daryl was coming over again. They were both beyond thrilled last night, Carl's always loved him."

Carol knows why she'd never met him before all this.

In the last ten years that she's been married to Ed, her friendships have slowly withered away. They're hard to maintain when she's not allowed to work or have her own phone or tell the truth about her third dislocated shoulder in as many months. And she was forced to make a habit of canceling at the last minute - Ed would give her permission to see a friend a few days in advance, because she wasn't allowed to make spontaneous plans, and oftentimes he would change his mind as she was walking out the door. People only have so much patience, and Carol found it easier to just stop spending time with others than to keep apologizing to them over and over again for Ed's decisions.

Lori and Jacqui were really the only ones who stuck around throughout it all - through the flakiness and the flimsy excuses, not to mention the total lack of privacy Ed granted them when they came over. Always lurking in the corner, making his presence known and silently warning everyone to watch their mouths. And the one time Jacqui tried to bring her boyfriend with her ended very poorly for Carol, so from then on she knew - Rick was the only man allowed in the house. Except for Ed's friends, of course.

Carol had always privately assumed that the only reason that she was allowed to stay friends with Lori was because Rick was almost always the officer responding to calls of domestic disturbance from the neighbors, and he had made it clear that he would check in if Lori hadn't heard from Carol in a while, regardless of whether or not something was called into the station.

That threat seemed just severe enough for Ed to allow her and Lori's friendship.

And Carol had never been more grateful to Lori or Jacqui than she was a month ago, when it all came to a head.

She'd made the decision to leave him three months ago, after he'd threatened to kill Sophia for leaving her toy bunny where he'd tripped over it, and then beat the extent of his sincerity into Carol.

She'd tried to be careful about it, never wanting to tip him off, but there must have been something she'd let slip, because all of a sudden he was on her like never before. He stopped paying the bills, locked away the keys to the car every time he parked, drank at home instead of at the bar, watched her go to sleep and woke up before her, demanded elaborate meals that took hours to prepare, and his libido suddenly reappeared with a vengeance.

She was crushed, more fearful than she'd ever been and not sure how she was going to survive. How poor Sophia was going to survive.

And then he got fired. That night, he slipped deeper into a drunken stupor than usual, slapped Sophia in the face, and passed out a few hours later. So Carol carried Sophia and ran the four miles to Lori's house, frantically banging on her door at eleven at night.

The look of relief when Rick flung open the door was all the reassurance Carol needed to know she had made the right choice.

All night Carol agonized over whether or not to send Sophia to school with what was surely going to be a black eye. The school would call it in and family court would get involved - she needed to get a restraining order against Ed, anyway. But with the number of domestic violence calls that went unpunished, would they take Sophia away? Or worse, give her to Ed?

But if she kept her home from school - what if Ed reported a kidnapping? And now that she involved Rick, would he be able to protect her? Or would he be arrested for kidnapping too?

Early the next morning, before Sophia and Carl woke up, Carol sat down with Rick and Lori and made a plan. And in the end, Carol would have a better shot if she beat Ed to the punch. Figuratively.

So she sent her to school, and a few hours later, Lori got the call from Child Protective Services confirming that Sophia could be placed in her care while Carol and Ed sorted through their legal mess.

Jacqui flew down from North Carolina as soon as she'd heard, and stayed with Carol in a motel for a week. She'd set Carol up with a reputable lawyer friend of hers, Andrea, who agreed to do her case pro bono. And she called her old landlord and explained why Carol would be a good tenant even though she had absolutely no credit and no rental history, and when the landlord agreed to rent to her on the condition that Carol had a cosigner, Jacqui agreed to cosign without hesitation. And then she'd helped Carol fill out every job application she could find, and coached her on interviewing when she finally got a call back.

And now, a month later, Carol was tasked with managing the Greene's stand at the farmer's market and taking parenting classes and anger management classes and going to weekly therapy, and Sophia's social worker made sure Sophia was going to therapy and school and getting regular doctor's appointments and recommending three hours of scheduled visitation once per week.

Carol wouldn't know how much progress Ed had made until the court date this week.

"Actually, Lori, I just remembered - you got notice that court was pushed to Thursday, not Wednesday, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be there. Rick was told he wasn't allowed to go, though. Did your lawyer talk to you about that?"

A cold lump formed in her throat. She tried to swallow it back. "Yeah. She called me just as I was going into the class."

Lori sighed. "I'm so sorry, honey."

All Carol could do was nod.

Lori seemed to sense that Carol wanted to get off the phone, and said, "It's gonna be okay. It'll all work out. I'll see you Thursday, okay? Love you."

"Love you too."

Carol hung up and took several deep breaths like her therapist had taught her, remembering the phone call she'd gotten a few hours earlier.

_"Hey, Carol, glad I caught you, this will just take a minute. Bad news - Ed's lawyer's claiming that Sophia staying with Rick is a conflict of interest since he's been the responding officer so many times. It wasn't a concern before, ostensibly because the emergency placement was only for her safety, but now that we're looking at custody arrangements and long-term planning it's 'unfairly biased' against Ed. Which, of course is utter bullshit, since it's weeks past the ending of what's considered emergency placement, so I'm sure they're just trying to create a distraction because Ed's not doing what he's supposed to be doing, but I wanted to give you a heads-up."_

_"So what does that mean?"_

_"Basically, if the judge agrees that it's a conflict of interest, Sophia would have to be placed with someone else, even if Rick agreed to stay out of the house until parental custody's finalized. Do you have anyone else you can think of that you'd like to recommend?"_

_"No.... nobody. The only other people either live in North Carolina or employ me."_

_"So then that's a no-go. Alright, well, I'm hoping that it won't come to that, but I wanted you to be prepared just in case."_

All she can do is wait.

\--

Daryl's in the middle of changing the oil in Mr. Rhee's pickup when he gets a call at the garage from Rick.

He slides out from under the truck, wipes his hands clean, and walks over to the office phone. "Yeah?"

"Hey, sorry to ask this of you, but you gotta go to the courthouse right now. I'll meet you there."

Daryl's taken aback. "What? Rick, I'm at work, can't just up and leave -"

Rick cuts him off. "Ask Dale to let you out. Please."

"Don't even got the right clothes! The hell's goin' on?"

"I'll take care of it. See you there." And he hangs up without further ado.

Daryl glares at the phone. "Bye to you too, then." He grabs his jacket and glances at his cell in the pocket, and sees that he'd already missed three calls in the past five minutes. Shit.

He shouts to Dale across the garage. "Hey! Gotta head out, 's an emergency," and Dale just waves him off.

Daryl doesn't bother yanking off his coveralls before getting onto his bike and heading toward the courthouse.

When he arrives, Rick's standing out front, holding a white dress shirt and slacks.

"Daryl, you had to show up on your bike? With an oil stain on your face?"

Daryl scoffs. "Missed the beauty pageant, too busy drivin' here like a damn bat outta hell." Rick starts unbuttoning Daryl's coveralls, and Daryl smacks at his hands. "Hey! 'Least buy me dinner first, good lord."

Rick glares at him, and Daryl takes off his coveralls and pulls on the dress shirt while Rick's talking. "It's Carol and Sophia, I'm not allowed in and apparently it's a conflict of interest to allow Sophia to stay with me and Lori since I've responded to the calls so many times before. Carol's lawyer is trying to find someone else for an emergency placement while they coordinate interviews with new foster parents and Lori recommended you."

Daryl's trying to figure out how to button his cuffs without getting grease smudges on the sleeves when he hears this, and he freezes. "What the _hell_ , Rick?!"

Rick pulls a tie out of nowhere and starts fastening it around Daryl's neck. "Look, it's just for a night or two, probably. Nothing big."

Daryl scoffs. "Rick, when I said I'd be happy to help, I didn't have _this_ in mind."

Rick looks at him evenly, stops fussing with the tie. "Daryl. I'm cashing in on my favor."

His favor.

Fuck.

They'd met a few years ago, when Rick was just a beat cop, because Daryl was constantly bailing Merle out of the drunk tank or on minor possession charges, and against his better judgement, he'd begrudgingly come to actually _like_ the guy, pig or not.

Merle, of course, didn't exactly appreciate that, but soon enough he got arrested again on assault and weapons charges, and got sent upstate.

And a year and a half ago, Rick got promoted to sheriff, and when they celebrated at Daryl's the night after, Merle came bursting through the door, about eleven months short of his parole.

Everyone froze - even Merle, for once in his life, kept his goddamn mouth shut - until Rick looked Merle square in the eye, and said, "Tomorrow morning."

Merle nodded, and gave Daryl the same look he'd given him a hundred times over: _I'm sorry_.

True to his word, Rick didn't start looking for Merle until the next morning, and was never able to find him.

Of course, a month later Merle got caught by a federal marshal in Texas while he was trying to sneak his way across the border, so he got screwed anyway, but it was decent of Rick to do that for him on his second day as sheriff.

Daryl knew it chafed at him - corruption starts small, and pulling strings so early on in the job is a bad sign - but he'd done it anyway, and Daryl didn't think he'd ever be able to pay him back.

Until now, at least.

Daryl groans, knowing that he's out of options. "Chrissake. Okay. _Fine_."

Rick nods. "Thank you, brother. I mean it."


	3. Chapter 3

Carol can't believe it.

One minute she's close to tears, thinking that her baby's going to be placed with total strangers, bounced from house to house with nobody to lean on, and the next minute Andrea's whispering _"don't worry"_ in her ear while Daryl's walking through the door.

Carol stares, and hisses, "What the hell's going on?!"

"Later," Andrea bites out, and she, Ed's lawyer, and the judge call another sidebar, too far away for Carol to hear.

She glances at Daryl, who's looking very out-of-place in a shirt and tie with little black smudges all over the sleeves, but when he looks back at her he twitches the corner of his mouth in a way that almost could be a smile.

Andrea comes back to stand at her side, and Carol rises.

The judge says, "Given the unique circumstances here, Mr. Daryl Dixon will have temporary custody of Sophia Peletier while her care team finds suitable long-term placement. The care team will inform the court immediately upon placement. Mrs. Carol Peletier will attend her classes until graduation, attend therapy until discharge, and continue working. Mr. Edward Peletier will attend his classes until graduation, attend therapy until discharge, enroll in substance use treatment, and find employment. It is so ordered. Court will adjourn and resume in two weeks."

Andrea ushers Carol out of the courthouse, and waits until Ed and his lawyer both drive away before speaking.

"Look. We had about three seconds to say something at the beginning, just before Sophia was gonna get placed. You wouldn't have been able to find out where she was going for a couple days, and it would take even longer than that to set up visitation. Lori said she knows Daryl, right? Likes him?"

Carol nods. "But -," and Andrea cuts her off.

"Uh-uh. No buts. You _know_ it doesn't matter what you think - it's all about what's best for Sophia, even if it's not something you want. It's unfair, but it's the truth."

Carol's shoulders slump. "I'm so tired of this."

Andrea nods sympathetically. "Yeah, I know. But the judge sees how much hard work you're putting in. Keep doing what you're doing and it'll all be worth it in the end."

Carol nods, and Andrea drives back to her office, leaving Carol standing alone outside the building.

"Hey."

She starts, not realizing that anyone was so close. "Oh. Hi, Daryl."

He clears his throat. "Just wanna let you know. Weren't expectin' this neither. Rick just called me and told me to haul ass over here. Gave me a change of clothes and that was that."

She doesn't really know how to respond to that - well, she does, but her response involves quite a bit more cruelty than he deserves - so she just nods.

He leans up against the wall of the building, and they stand there together in silence for a while.

Carol finally feels like she can speak without lashing out at him, so she asks, "Don't you have to go back to work?"

He shakes his head. "Nah. Called my boss when we got out, got the rest of the day off to get everythin' situated."

Carol huffs out a humorless laugh. "Do you even know what you've gotten yourself into?"

Daryl rubs the back of his neck. "Uh. Not really." He lifts his head up and looks directly at her. "But I'm gonna do right by your li'l girl. Promise."

He holds her gaze just a beat longer than she's comfortable with, so she breaks it by gesturing to his hand. "Smoker, huh?"

He looks at the pack he's holding, almost like he forgot he had it. "Oh. Uh, yeah. Came out for one last smoke." His cheeks turn pink under his long hair. "Wasn't gonna do it while she's stayin' with me. Secondhand and all that." He wiggles a cigarette between his fingers. "That okay?"

"Only if you give me one, too."

Surprise flashes across his face, but he hands her the pack and a lighter. She takes one, lights it up, and watches him do the same.

They smoke together in silence, leaned up against the wall of the building, until he grinds his out in the ashtray next to him.

She can feel him looking at her, and he repeats, "Gonna do right by your girl."

She can't bring herself to look at him again, so she closes her eyes and waits for him to leave.

When he does, she realizes that if she doesn't leave soon she'll be late for the farm, and stubs out her cigarette.

\--

Daryl wasn't sure how this was all gonna go over, but when the social worker brings Sophia by later that night, she's quiet all through dinner.

He bought frozen chicken nuggets and French fries, figuring she liked that kind of stuff, but she just picks at it, and he's not sure if it's because she lost her appetite or the food sucks.

The food does kind of suck.

After he clears the dishes, he's surprised to see her still sitting at the table, not really doing anything. He gestures towards the TV, and says, "You can turn it on, if you wanna watch somethin'."

She doesn't say anything, but walks over to the couch and sits down, and rather than turn on the TV she just starts playing with her shoelaces.

Daryl sighs, and sits on the floor in front of her. "Hey. I know it's scary, changin' where you live all the time and not seein' your mom as much as you want. But it'll get better soon. Promise."

Sophia's bottom lip starts quivering, like she's holding back tears, so Daryl adds, "You can cry if you wanna, ain't gonna hurt my feelin's or nothin'. Know dinner was kinda gross."

He gets a tiny smile in return, so he keeps going. "I got some dusty cards, too, if you wanna play Go Fish or somethin'. You'll prob'ly beat me, too. Never was any good at games."

She hesitates, but when he sees a fraction of a nod, he claps his hand against his knee and rummages through the junk drawer.

He deals out the cards on the coffee table, and she kicks his ass at Go Fish. By the end of it, she still hasn't said a word, but her smile speaks volumes.

He helps her unpack her clothes, tucks her in, and stays up half the night anxious about where the hell she's gonna go.

He hopes they'll do right by her, too.

\--

The social worker calls the next morning, after Daryl has sent Sophia off to school with half a bowl of cornflakes for breakfast, and says that she found a family to take her in starting tomorrow.

Apparently, the family already has four kids - an infant, three-year-old twins, and a teenager.

"Kinda sounds like they're a little busy already," Daryl says. The twins would hard enough, but with an infant and a teenager? And then adding Sophia?

The social worker's vague response tells him all he needs to know, and he cuts her off. "Look. She can stay with me. It's fine."

There's no response on the other end of the line, and Daryl's got a sinking feeling about it. He adds, "Check in with her, ask her if she likes me. She seemed okay yesterday and this morning."

When the social worker drops Sophia off that afternoon, she gives him about a hundred pages of information on how to be a good foster parent and how the legal system works and yadda yadda yadda.

Guess there's another sleepless night coming.

\--

For the next few weeks, Carol can hardly believe how quickly her life speeds by. Almost before she knows it, she's graduated from her parenting class and her anger management class, and her visitation has been upped to three times a week.

Ed, on the other hand, has attended exactly one anger management class, and has been leeching off unemployment while an application for worker's comp is appealed, which makes absolutely no sense to Carol, and seeing as how the judge appears equally baffled, she's wondering what Ed's game is.

Carol's not one to get her hopes up - she's learned by now that hoping gets her nowhere, and praying gets her little more than peace of mind - so she doesn't want to think about best-case scenario.

And she says as much to Jacqui, too, when they have their weekly video call.

"Carol, you're so pessimistic."

Carol scoffs. "Wouldn't you be, at this point in my life?"

Jacqui sighs. "Maybe instead you could focus on what's going _right_. There's no point in moping around waiting for the other shoe to drop. You're doing what you gotta do, you got Lori and Rick helping you out, Sophia's happy. And Daryl's a nice guy."

"Yeah, I guess."

"What do you mean, 'you guess'? From the way Lori and Rick talk about him, it's like he hung the moon himself."

Carol shrugs. "Yeah, I guess. I don't know him all that well. He's a nice guy, sure."

"Pretty damn nice of him to take in your daughter at the last second, don't you think?"

Carol cuts her a glare. "Don't."

But that's never worked very well with Jacqui. "No, Carol, I will. You're in a hell of a mess and you're handling it and you should be proud of yourself, but you gotta realize that this is Sophia's _life_ now. This whole nightmare is not gonna go away. She's safe, and she's happy now, but everything's not gonna just magically get better once she lives with you again. Chances are that if she really loves Daryl as much as it seems like she does, he's gonna be around for a long, long time."

"Yeah, I _know_ that. Nobody will _ever_ let me fucking forget it. My fuckups ruined my life and they ruined her life and every goddamn minute that I sit in court or class or I'm looking at her empty bed I grasp just how much I fucking ruined her life. I _get_ it, Jacqui. Jesus Christ." She sees Jacqui open her mouth, and instead, she bites out. "Gotta go. Bye," and hangs up.

She didn't deserve any of that, but Carol's too wound up to care.

She goes for a run, pounds her anger into the pavement, and after she's smoked, showered, and cooked dinner, she texts Jacqui:

_Hey. I'm sorry for yelling at you. It's not about you._

A few minutes pass by, and she sees a response:

_I know._

Yeah, she should have known she wasn't getting off the hook so easily.

_I promise that I'll give Daryl a real, actual chance. And I'll stop wallowing._

_Good._

_Love you._

_Love you too_.


	4. Chapter 4

The next time she's at Daryl's for visitation, she keeps her word.

Normally, when she's over, he fades into the background, only engaging with them when Sophia asks him a question or when he offers refills on their drinks. And Carol's appreciated that; it makes the whole situation feel a little less alien, and she can almost fall back into the days when it was just her and Sophia, playing with paper dress-up dolls and helping with homework, just the two of them.

But she can tell that Sophia senses the note of tension in the atmosphere that Carol's tried to hide. Jacqui was right, after all - it's not fair to Sophia _or_ Daryl to ice him out. He's done her a kindness magnitudes beyond what she'd ever expected, and Sophia clearly adores him. She deserves to have someone dote on her the way Daryl does, and she needs to have a semblance of normalcy, too.

As much as Carol loathes to think it, Sophia deserves to have two parents - or parental figures, at the very least - who actually enjoy each other's presence.

So she sucks it up, and when she invites Daryl to play Candyland with her and Sophia, she knows she made the right choice with the way Sophia's face lights up.

The rest of the afternoon is spent in good spirits, and when Carol hugs Sophia goodbye, she thanks Daryl, too. The surprise is evident on his face, but he simply nods, and on the drive home Carol feels a little calmer than she usually does after leaving.

\--

Daryl's in the middle of making dinner one night when Sophia pipes up from the living room.

"I'm glad you and my mom are friends."

He stops chopping the tomatoes and looks over at her. "Whaddya mean?"

She shrugs. "I dunno. It's just nice that you're friends. She doesn't have a lot of friends."

"Well, not everyone can be as popular as you, miss queen bee."

Sophia sticks her tongue out at him, and he sticks his tongue out back at her. And when she returns her attention to whatever cartoon is on TV, he resumes cooking on autopilot.

It's obvious why Carol doesn't have many friends - even if Rick and Lori hadn't filled him in on everything that was going on beforehand, he knows that her situation doesn't exactly work for most people. And even though she's got a lot more freedom in her social life now, she's probably too busy to bother. Or uninterested. Or both.

He also wouldn't exactly call them _friends_ , either. Sophia probably only said something because Carol was demonstrably nicer to him the last time she was here, and Sophia's an observant kid. Not that Carol was ever mean, or rude, but her polite demeanor always had a chilly undertone, and so he didn't want to overstep his bounds. And it seemed like that was the right way to go, at least until now. But Daryl's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth - if Carol wants to be on good terms, that's just fine with him.

After they've eaten and Sophia's gone to bed, he opens up the next book on his reading list. He'd already finished all the pamphlets and binders and unbelievably boring material that the social worker had given him, so he did some of his own research and found a book of testimonials from former foster kids to read too. He feels pretty confident that he's doing okay, but it can't hurt to check.

He meant what he'd said, after all. He'd do right by Sophia. Whatever that takes.

\--

A few weeks later, Carol's saying goodbye to Sophia again, and Daryl motions for her to hang back.

"Hey, Sophia, lemme talk to your mom real quick?"

Sophia nods, gives Carol another hug, and heads back up to her room.

Carol asks, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just wanted to run somethin' by you real quick."

Carol nods. "Go ahead."

He rubs the back of his neck, a sign Carol's come to realize as discomfort. "So every year, my boss goes on vacation for two weeks, and the rest of us pick up a couple shifts to cover it. But since I'm already working the weekday school hours I gotta go later some days. Didn't know if you'd rather get a sitter or if I bring her with me."

That's... not at all what Carol was expecting. "Oh. Um, do you have a sitter already?"

Daryl shakes his head. "Nope. Figured I'd just ask around, but..."

Yeah, that's not great. "Did you talk to your boss?"

"Yeah, yeah, he don't got a problem with it. She'd just do homework or whatever in his office for a couple hours. It's quiet enough in there, anyhow."

"What about your coworkers?"

"Oh, they know the deal. I mean, some of 'em have kids, anyway. But they're good guys, wouldn't hassle her or nothin'."

Carol's still not convinced, and he must see it on her face, because he adds, "Can take you there to meet 'em next time you're over, if you want."

Oh.

She finds herself nodding, and says, "Yeah, okay. Thanks."

"Yup. Drive safe."

\--

Later that night, as she's laying in bed, she thinks back on their discussion, and realizes that Daryl's much kinder than she'd given him credit for.

He's got a knack for saying all the right things, and doing all the right things, and it's only been since letting her guard down that she's really noticed it.

He could have easily said no to the temporary placement, but he didn't. He could have easily let Sophia go to the other family, but he didn't, and in fact he'd _volunteered_ to keep her with him. He could have screwed with the schedule, or been intrusive while she was visiting, or gotten a sitter or brought Sophia to work with him without telling her.

And then, Carol realizes, that the fact that he'd _asked_ what Carol would prefer means that not only has he been home every single night that he's had Sophia, but that he's also trying to give Carol a choice. He's the first person to try to actually _include_ her in the parenting of her child since this whole nightmare began.

Hell, just by doing that, he's already done more for Sophia than Ed's ever done in his entire life. And Carol's not quite sure what to make of that.

But she feels at peace, for the first time in a long, long time, and she's actually grateful for Daryl - something she'd never once expected to feel throughout this whole ordeal.

He's a good man, and she thinks Jacqui would be proud of her for letting him in.

She's a little proud of herself, too.

\--

The next time Carol's scheduled for visitation, she meets Daryl and Sophia at the garage.

He introduces them to his boss, Dale, and two other guys there, Axel and Oscar. Someone named T-Dog was there this morning, and someone else named Michonne will be there tomorrow.

Carol's a little touched to notice that he's actually _nervous -_ like he wants her to approve of them, and not just for the scheduling issue.

They seem okay - Axel's a little over-the-top solicitous, and Oscar's quiet but nice enough. Apparently Michonne loves kids and T-Dog brings cupcakes and cookies and brownies every so often, and Dale's a man who exudes peace and serenity.

It's reassuring, and although Carol figured that Daryl wouldn't want to work with a bunch of scumbags in the first place, it's nice to know that she can trust her instincts.

They tell her that Daryl's a good guy, that his coworkers are good people, and Sophia will be safe and well taken care of while they're at work.

But of course, the other shoe has to drop at some point, and it's picked today to do it.

\--

She comes home from the garage and finds the police sitting outside, and her downstairs neighbor points to her.

She feels a cold wave of dread wash over her as he walks over.

"Hello, ma'am, I'm Deputy Sheriff Shane Walsh. Are you Carol Peletier?"

She nods.

"Your neighbor on the first floor reported that about a half-hour ago, someone named Ed knocked on the door, and when he asked where you were, she indicated that you lived on the second floor. She says he appeared to be drunk. He thanked her, walked upstairs, and almost immediately she heard him hammering on the door and calling for you for several minutes, followed by loud smashing and shouting. She heard glass breaking and multiple heavy thumps on the floor, as if he were throwing large items. She then called the police. It appears that he vacated the premises shortly before we arrived, but we have him on the security footage entering the building."

Carol's frozen.

"Do you have anywhere you could stay tonight, ma'am? Anywhere safe?"

"Um, maybe. Let me call someone." She pulls out her phone and calls Lori.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Um. Ed - he - " but she can't finish her sentence. She's gasping for breath, and she's worried she'll hyperventilate, and the officer produces a paper bag from somewhere.

As she breathes into it, he motions to her phone, and she hands it over.

"Hello, this is Deputy Sheriff Shane Walsh. May I ask who I'm speaking with?"

Carol can't hear the response, but the officer breaks out in a smile.

"Oh, Lori, hey! How you doin'? Yeah, everything's okay, Mrs. Peletier just had a bit of a scare. Is it okay if she stays the night with you?"

Carol had expected a yes, but it's still a relief to hear.

"Great, I'll let her know. Much appreciated. She'll be by sometime soon. You take care, now. Say hello to Rick and Carl for me."

He hands her back her phone, and says, "Small world, ain't it? Yeah, Rick's my partner, he and I go way back. Lori's a good woman. Glad you're friends."

Carol nods, still at a loss for words. Thankfully, he seems well-equipped to handle this.

"If you'd like, I can escort you upstairs while you grab your things and drive you over."

Carol finds her voice at last. "Yes, I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

He walks her upstairs, and she does her best not to focus on the carnage littering the floor.

She didn't have a lot, but since moving in she'd accumulated some secondhand furniture and artwork from the thrift door across town. And now it's shattered, broken, busted-up. Completely destroyed.

She picks through the chunks of wood strewn across her bedroom to grab a change of clothes and her phone charger, and carefully avoids the glass on the bathroom floor while she grabs her toothbrush. She shoves it into a trash bag and heads back outside without a word.

The officer seems to realize that she's not in a speaking mood, and when he pulls up in front of Lori's house, he says, "You're gonna be okay, ma'am. Me and Rick'll make sure of it."

She simply nods, thanks him for his help, and walks into the house, exhausted beyond belief.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl's nervously adjusting his tie while he waits for the judge to leave his chambers. He always feels like the stupid thing's strangling him every time he wears it.

He hazards a glance at Carol across the room, who doesn't look over, and notices that Ed didn't bother to show up. His lawyer's here, though, looking irritated as he shuffles around his papers.

Daryl doesn't have to be here - it's not like he can speak on anyone's behalf, and they get all the information they need from Sophia's social worker - but he figures Carol deserves a little moral support, even if he's not actually allowed to talk to her during it. But if it were him going up against someone like Ed, he thinks he'd probably want support however he could get it.

The judge finally enters, and they do the whole rise-sit-roll-call-deal before they check in.

The social worker reports that Sophia's doing well, getting good grades, making her doctor's appointments, and her therapist says that she's showing minor distress and enjoys living with Daryl.

He feels his cheeks turning pink when he hears that, and tries to fight the smile spreading across his face, but he's pleased all the same.

Carol's lawyer reports that Carol's graduated her classes, continues her employment and tenancy, and has been making regular therapy appointments as well.

Ed's lawyer reports that Ed's incarcerated and has a criminal court date set for month from today.

The judge doesn't look too pleased to hear that, and Carol's lawyer pipes up that they've filed for a restraining order as a result.

_What the fuck?!_

Daryl whips his head around to look at Carol, but she's staring straight ahead. She doesn't look bruised or hurt, but Daryl knows all too well that men like Ed tend to hit where nobody can see.

The judge drones on while Daryl fidgets, desperate to get out of there and catch up with Carol outside the courthouse for a smoke.

Finally, _finally_ court's adjourned, and Daryl practically runs out of there. He follows Carol and her lawyer, careful to stand far enough away that he can't hear anything, and watches her lawyer pat Carol on the shoulder before driving away.

Carol finally meets his eye and he walks over, wordlessly offering her a cigarette as has become their tradition over the last several trips here.

They light up and lean back against the wall in silence. Daryl tries to contain his agitation, but he must not do a very good job of it, because Carol says, "I'm fine, Daryl."

She doesn't bother looking at him, but that doesn't deter him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He waits, but she doesn't elaborate. "So... what happened?"

"He trashed my place while I was out."

Jesus Christ. "You still stayin' there?"

"Yeah, but I stayed with Rick and Lori that night." She finally looks over at him, and sighs. "I'm fine. Seriously. Quit worrying. The only thing harmed was my furniture. And door. But the landlord fixed that."

"You got new locks?"

She rolls her eyes. " _Yes_ , Daryl, chill out. It's fine."

He bites back the urge to respond, _it's not fine, you wouldn't get a restraining order if it was fine_ , because he knows it won't do him any good, and will probably piss her off anyway.

He stubs out his cigarette and asks, "You need new furniture?"

She stubs hers out, too, and takes another one from his pack. "I was able to get a new table and I've cleared out most of the shit from my bedroom. Thank fuck he didn't touch Sophia's room."

"Can help you, if you want."

She levels her gaze at him before speaking. "I don't need you waltzing in to rescue me every five minutes, Daryl. I'm actually capable of taking care of myself."

He shrugs. "Not sayin' you ain't. Just sayin' if you want me to help, I will."

She looks back at him for a moment longer, and turns her attention back to her cigarette, taking a long drag of it.

He lights up another one, and they stand smoking in silence.

When she stubs hers out, she says, "If you want to help, don't speak a word of this to Sophia."

"'Course."

And he watches her walk off without another word.

\--

Carol instead enlists Lori's help in clearing out much of the destroyed furniture, and drives Carol to and from the thrift shop with new - well, new to Carol, anyway - end tables and a small dresser. Luckily Ed had only damaged the foot of the bed and not the frame, so Carol was able to glue it back together, and she's pleased to see that it's actually held up fairly well.

Rick advised her to replace the screws holding the locks on the door in place with screws that are two inches longer, and she'd also invested in a footstool that fit perfectly under the doorknob. It wouldn't be much use while she's out, but she reasons that it could at least give her the illusion of safety while she sleeps.

She hasn't really felt _safe_ , exactly, living here; it was in an alright part of town and the landlord had already installed security cameras, which helped. And living on the second floor felt a little more comfortable than the first floor with bars on the windows, that's for sure. But there's not much else she could do to make her feel really and truly _safe_ , short of Ed getting thrown in jail for the rest of his life.

She's pretty confident that's not an option.

But it's good enough, and hopefully it'll be okay for Sophia. Carol made sure to unstick her window and leave a knotted sheet under both beds, just in case, and a baseball bat rests in the corner of her closet.

Her mace doesn't leave her bedside drawers, either, since she carries a spare attached to her keys.

She doesn't resent Daryl, exactly; he's gone above and beyond for her, and she's actually starting to warm up to him - _trusting_ him, which feels a little unbelievable - but there's something about him that feels... unsettling.

She's not sure if he has a savior complex, or if he's actually just that good of a guy, but either way, she wants to be able to come through this knowing that _she_ did it, _she_ carried herself and _she_ can make it on her own. It'll give her confidence in parenting Sophia alone.

She doesn't let herself think about any alternative to being a single mom. 

\--

Rick notifies her the next day that Ed's made bail, and reminds her that a restraining order is a deterrent, and if he tries to contact her in any way she needs to file an official report. 

It's the same thing her therapist said, and it mostly just makes her feel like it's a waiting game until he breaks it. 

But it's something, at least, and it's more than she had before, so it's going to have to be good enough.

She heads over to Daryl's for visitation, and after Sophia hugs her goodbye, she asks Daryl to walk her to her car.

He's clearly surprised, but grabs his coat and follows her out.

They reach her car and she says, "I'm sorry for how I reacted at the courthouse the other day. I appreciate your offer to help, it was very kind of you."

He shrugs. "Ain't nothin'."

She can't help but roll her eyes. "You putting yourself out for me over and over again _is_ something. Quit it with the modesty."

He at least has the grace to blush, just the slightest hint of pink on his cheeks, but he just shrugs again.

"Don't wanna piss you off, but I mean it. Happy to help. Ain't doin' nothin' 'cept work and takin' care of Sophia."

She knows he's sincere - she's learned he's a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy - so she simply says, "Thanks," and drives home.

\--

Daryl shows up to court a month later, and as he follows Carol and her lawyer into the courtroom he notices Ed and his lawyer standing at the end of the hallway.

They walk in and take their seats a minute or two later, and soon the judge walks out of his chambers.

"Good morning, everyone," he says as he takes his seat, and after they rattle off the introductory information he breaks from tradition with next statement. 

"I'm glad to see we're all in attendance today." He looks directly at Ed, and continues.

"Mr. Peletier. As you should be well aware, you have a Protection From Abuse order filed against you by Mrs. Peletier, also known as a stay-away order, or a restraining order. Has your lawyer explained to you what this means?" He holds up a finger as Ed nods, and adds, "Please make sure to verbalize your answers for the court."

"Yes," Ed grunts.

"Good. Then you're also aware of the consequences of violating this order?"

Daryl doesn't miss how Ed's face sours, and feels a perverse sense of satisfaction as he grits out, "Yes."

"Good. We have waived the physical distance requirement for this morning to ensure that both you and Mrs. Peletier are able to attend, but I expect you to adhere to the remainder of the order. Furthermore, I want to make it clear that I will interpret any statements from you concerning Mrs. Peletier or directed at Mrs. Peletier, failure to exit the room before Mrs. Peletier, even any looks in her direction as a violation of your order, and I will additionally hold you in contempt. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"If you feel the need to speak up under these circumstances, your lawyer should speak for you. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Daryl glances over at Carol. She's sitting ramrod straight, refusing to be intimidated, and if she's faking it she's doing a damn good job.

"Good. Let's proceed."

It goes much as Daryl expected; Ed's court date for the break-in and destruction of property is tomorrow, and he still hasn't gotten a job, he's half-assing his classes, and he apparently doesn't qualify for substance use treatment or therapy, according to the intake assessments, which Daryl believes is a load of bullshit.

Sophia's doing well in school, doing well in therapy, misses her mom and while she hasn't talked much about her dad, what she _has_ said is pretty negative.

Carol's still working, still going to therapy, attending visitation, the whole nine yards, and Daryl's damn proud of her.

And then the judge shocks the hell out of him.

"Mrs. Peletier, you have shown remarkable progress, and it seems like you're very invested here."

She stands up, and her voice wavers a little, but she holds her own. "Yes, Your Honor. I've been trying really hard and I want my little girl back, more than anything."

The judge nods, and addresses Ed.

"Mr. Peletier, I cannot say the same for you. Over the past few months you have failed to adequately adhere to your requirements, you have shown little interest in reunification, you have further damaged your relationship with Mrs. Peletier, you have managed to get yourself arrested, and you appear to show no remorse to boot. Do you have any explanation for this?"

His lawyer pipes up with the most pathetic list of excuses Daryl's ever heard, and the judge doesn't hesitate before shaking his head in disgust.

"I find it extremely unlikely that you, who have no prior criminal record, who have a record of previous stable employment, and who have inconsistently attended your classes - and failed entirely to attend treatment and therapy - cannot adhere to your orders. You appear to have ample time during the day, and I cannot fathom how your personal and social life seem to take precedence over your orders. I refuse to accept this explanation."

Miraculously, Ed's lawyer is silent.

The judge continues. "Additionally, given that Miss Sophia Peletier has expressed her concerns about living with you again, I do not believe it would be in her best interest for you to have physical custody, to any degree."

"'Cause that bitch is sayin' shit to her that ain't true."

Ed may have mumbled it, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

The judge slams his gavel down, and true to his word, Ed's given a count of contempt and violation of his restraining order, and then addresses Carol directly. 

" _As I was saying_. I do not believe it would be in your daughter's best interest to allow Mr. Peletier physical custody to any degree. And Mr. Peletier, if I hear another outburst from you, I will have a bailiff escort you out of the room immediately, with another count of contempt and violation. Am I clear?"

"Yes." The sheer vitriol he's able to inject into one word is... well, even if it wasn't obvious as all hell before, Daryl can see why Carol and Sophia are scared of him.

The judge narrows his eyes, but continues. "So, Mrs. Peletier, if you are prepared, I can award you full physical custody effective Friday, to allow Miss Sophia have enough time to move before school begins on Monday."

Holy shit.

Holy _shit._

Daryl sure as shit didn't expect this - the social worker had said it could take over a year if there were 'complications', which had sounded pretty ominous, but he was prepared to have her for as long as he needed to.

Judging by the way Carol claps her hands over her mouth and lets out a single sob, she didn't expect this either. 

She nods vigorously, and the judge cracks the faintest hint of a smile. 

"Please verbalize your answer for the court, Mrs. Peletier."

"Sorry - yes, _yes_ , oh my god, yes - I can't - yes. I'm prepared. Yes." And then she's crying, just barely making a sound, and Daryl's surprised to feel himself tearing up a little too.

Court's adjourned, and Daryl actually beats Carol to their smoking spot.

He watches her hug her lawyer goodbye, and she walks over to him, the biggest smile on her face he's ever seen.

It strikes him just how beautiful she is, and he immediately shuts that down. Inappropriate as hell.

She grabs a cigarette from his pack unprompted, and her hands are shaking too much for her to light it, so he does it for her.

"Congrats," he says, and she just nods.

"This... God, I don't even have any words for this. I mean, I never expected it to happen today. Hell, I never really even _expected_ it. Always figured Ed would worm his way in."

He nods back, and they smoke in silence for another minute or two before she breaks it.

"I talked to the social worker, and she said that we can switch visitation from Thursday to today, so we can talk to her about it tonight. If that's okay with you."

"Yeah, yeah, 'course."

She reaches out and squeezes his hand, and he manages to hide his flinch of surprise.

"Daryl..." she trails off, and doesn't pick it back up. But he knows what she means. 

He squeezes her hand back, and he thinks she knows what he means, too.


	6. Chapter 6

Carol's over the moon to have her daughter back, but she can see that Sophia doesn't quite share her enthusiasm. She knew there would be some bumps in the road - the social worker told her time and again that Sophia would need time to adjust after all the changes, not just to living with Carol again but also to the new apartment, new neighborhood, and new life.

But it hurts. It hurts a lot more than she expected.

And, like Jacqui told her to, she tries to focus on the good - her divorce from Ed will be finalized before the end of the year, and it's looking less and less likely that he'll get visitation, and the next court date isn't for three months because the dumb piece of shit _still_ hasn't done what the judge told him to do - but she's worried about Sophia, and no amount of silver linings will distract her from the new dynamic that's setting her off-kilter.

So one night, a few weeks into the new arrangement, they're sitting down for dinner and Sophia's picking at her food.

"What's wrong, honey?"

She shrugs.

Carol puts her fork down and lays her hand over Sophia's. "You can tell me anything. I won't get mad, I promise."

She shrugs again, and just as Carol's debating whether or not to keep pushing Sophia whispers, "I miss them."

"Miss who, baby?"

"Mr. Daryl. And Mrs. Grimes. And Mr. Grimes and Carl."

Carol blinks. "Well, we all spent time together this weekend, remember? We played charades at Carl's house and ate lunch."

"Yeah, but it's not the same. I miss living with them. And living with Mr. Daryl."

_Fuck_ , that hurts.

She tries not to show it when she says, "That's okay, it's tough to get used to changes like this. You and I haven't lived together in a long time."

At that, Sophia finally looks up. "I like living with you too, Mom. I just..."

Carol waits, but Sophia stays silent. "You can keep going, it's okay."

Sophia blinks back tears. "I don't like it _here._ It's small and my friends don't live here and I don't want Dad to find us."

Carol can't hold back a sob as she crushes Sophia into a hug, and whispers, "I know, baby. I'm so sorry. I wish I got us out of there sooner. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry."

And she rocks back and forth, smoothing Sophia's hair over and over, whispering a hundred apologies while Sophia lets it all out, sobbing into her chest.

And with a pang, Carol's reminded of a time - much longer ago than it feels - putting Sophia to sleep in the middle of the night, feeding and consoling and playing and reassuring her that everything's going to be alright, she will always be safe and warm and loved no matter what.

And Carol can't help but remember how the next several years, she had served to break those promises over and over and over again.

\--

The next morning, Carol sends Sophia off to school and tries to call Lori for advice.

She doesn't bother leaving a message, knowing that Lori will call back whenever she's available, and fiddles with her phone while she considers her next move.

It's stupid for her to feel nervous about this - she _knows_ what his answer will be, for God's sake, and it's ridiculous to think that he's sick and tired of Sophia when she's seen firsthand just how much he cares about her.

But old demons are tough to ignore, and there are some insecurities that she hasn't worked through just yet. Besides, their main source of communication has been a few texts about visitation, and Lori's handled most of the weekend get-togethers.

She waits a few more minutes, and when Lori still hasn't called back she makes up her mind.

He answers on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, Daryl. It's Carol."

"Hey!" The surprise is evident in his voice, but he still sounds happy to hear from her.

Well, that's a good sign, despite the loud whirring and clanking in the background. "Is this an okay time?"

"Yeah, just gimme a second." She hears something muffled and a few moments later it's quiet when he says, "What's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine." She rolls her eyes at herself. "Actually, well, no. That's why I'm calling. Um. Nobody's hurt or anything, just..."

She tries to keep her voice from wavering, but she's not as successful as she'd like. "Sophia told me last night that she misses you. And she doesn't like the apartment."

Daryl's silent for a moment, and then says, "Well... big change, ain't it?"

She sighs. "Yeah, of course, but it's not that. I think it's because it's just me and her. She doesn't feel safe. She's scared." Her voice cracks when she says, "Because when I lived with her before I couldn't keep her safe." And now she's crying. Because Daryl doesn't have enough on his plate. Wonderful.

But he's surprisingly gentle. "Hey, no, it ain't that. She was scared with me too. But I think it maybe was easier 'cause she don't gotta worry about me gettin' hurt, since he ain't never hurt me before. And, y'know, she saw what happened to you. So she's prob'ly worried it's gonna happen again. Easy jumpin' to worst case scenario, y'know?" He's clearly scrambling, worried about saying the wrong thing and making it worse, but he's actually not doing too bad. "Plus, I'm a guy too, so she prob'ly thinks I'm strong enough to fend him off, or somethin'. Pfft. She don't know any better."

Carol chuckles at that, and wipes off the tears from her face. "Yeah, maybe." She blows out a loud breath, determined to ask. "Look, I know you must be glad to have your own space back, so I understand if you want to say no. But I was wondering if maybe you'd be okay with her sleeping over at your house sometime? Put her at ease?"

"Pfft, space is overrated. If she wants to come over, door's always open. Got her own bedroom, after all."

"You haven't changed it back?"

"Back? Please. Butterflies and sunshine's about a hundred times nicer to look at than Merle's dumbass pinup posters and old bottle caps litterin' the floor. I chucked the posters, anyhow. Little girl ain't got no business lookin' at some old horndog's goodies. _Not_ that she saw goodies or nothin', just talkin' about the posters. And, and _Merle_ was the horndog, not me, I mean. Never wanted nothin' like that hangin' around anyway. I mean -"

"Oh my god, please, just stop talking. You're gonna give both of us a stress ulcer."

"Yup. Right. Mhm."

She shakes her head. "Anyway. Is there a night that's okay with you?"

"Hell, you wanna bring her by tonight it's fine with me. No plans or nothin'."

"Oh, great! Then... I'll bring her by after dinner?"

"Nope. What's a sleepover without a pizza party? Thought that was a requirement, or somethin'."

She smirks. "You gonna braid her hair, too?"

"You don't even wanna know how many tutorials I watched on YouTube when she first got here. Could never figure it out. Think her hair's too short, or my hands are too big, or somethin'."

The thought of Daryl trying to braid her daughter's hair makes her feel something that she can't quite label, and it warms her all the way through. "That's incredibly sweet of you, Daryl."

He's gruff when he responds. "Yeah, well. Promised you I'd do right by her, and all that."

There's so much that she's never going to know - not because Daryl and Sophia deliberately withhold information, but just because it's impossible to document every minute of every day that Sophia spent living away from Carol. She knows the important things - Sophia was fed, she was safe, she was doing as well as she could, but there's a million little things that Carol doesn't know. Like how many mornings Sophia chose toast over cereal, or how many times they played Go Fish before she got sick of it and asked to learn backgammon, or what they talked about over dinner every night. How many times Daryl tried and failed to braid her daughter's hair.

There are weeks upon weeks that Carol's missed, time that she'll never get back, and she has nobody to blame but herself for taking so damn long to get out of her self-imposed prison.

But he doesn't need to hear all of that, so all she says is, "Thank you for everything. I'll drop her off tonight." And she hangs up the phone before she breaks down.

\--

That night, Sophia is _ecstatic_ when she finds out about the sleepover, talking Carol's ear off all the way from school to Daryl's house about movies and popcorn and candy and pizza and ice cream, and Carol privately thinks that Daryl needs to grow a spine when it comes to Sophia begging him for junk food.

They pull up to the house, and when Daryl opens the door, she's heartened to see just how wide his grin stretches.

"Hey there, li'l miss!" They high-five and Carol hands him Sophia's bag.

"Thanks again for doing this, Daryl, I really appreciate it."

He shrugs. "Ain't nothin'. I like spendin' time with her."

She smiles, and gives Sophia a hug. "Be good for Daryl, alright? I'll pick you up from school tomorrow."

Sophia's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Tomorrow? You're not sleeping over too?"

Carol blinks. "Well, no, honey, this is a sleepover for you."

She's surprised to see Sophia's shoulders droop so low. "Oh. Okay."

Daryl catches Carol's eye and mumbles, "Can stay, if you want. Don't mind."

This is not at all what Carol expected, and when she says, "Oh, no, I wouldn't want to impose," he just shrugs.

"Not imposin' if I'm offerin'."

Carol looks at Sophia, who's looking more hopeful with each word. "Well, I mean - Sophia, if you want -" and Sophia smiles, heartbreakingly sweet.

"Please, Mom?"

Carol looks back at Daryl, who simply shrugs again, and says, "Well, sure, okay," and Sophia runs up to her bedroom without another word.

"Daryl, really, I didn't mean to put you on the spot."

He snorts. "Carol, quit worryin'. Just stay over, I'll sleep on the couch. Don't care one bit."

"The couch? I was just going to stay in Sophia's room."

"Bed's a twin on a good day, she can barely fit in it by herself. And I ain't gonna have you sleepin' on the floor when there's a bed and a couch available." And when he sees her open her mouth to argue, he cuts her off. "And don't even think about sleepin' on the couch. You're a guest, for chrissake." His cheeks turn a little pink at that. What a dork.

She smiles all the same, and simply says, "Thank you."

He nods, and when Sophia comes back downstairs with a coloring book and a box of colored pencils they order pizza and settle in for the night.

\--

Daryl grabs a pillow and a blanket while Carol puts Sophia to bed, and quickly changes into his pajamas. He leaves a t-shirt and a spare pair of sweats on the bed, and sets himself up on the couch with the TV turned low.

When Carol comes back downstairs, she must have already popped into his bedroom, because she's wearing his clothes.

He's surprised at how much that affects him.

He's always known she was attractive - he has _eyes_ , for chrissake, and the last time they were at the courthouse it really hit him over the head - but over the past few months he's learned just how smart and tough and determined she is, too. Which has only served to make her more attractive to him.

It's beyond inappropriate, though, to have a stupid crush on his former foster kid's mother - which is a wild way to put it, but when he really thinks about it, it's a true enough description - so he's mostly been able to talk himself out of it. Had he gone out to buy new clothes the day before her first visitation with him? Yes. Did he clean the house top to bottom after taking off the rest of the day at work when they made plans for tonight? Maybe.

But, he reasons with himself, it was important to show her that he takes it seriously. He meant what he said, after all; he was gonna do right by her little girl, and that doesn't stop just because Sophia moved out.

But now there's a wrench in the works, and that wrench is standing in Daryl's living room with his t-shirt on and his sweatpants rolled up to her ankles.

"Figured these were for me," she says with a half-smile, and he just nods.

She gestures to the couch. "Mind if I...?"

"No, no, c'mon over." He moves over, and realizes - "You want somethin' to drink? Beer, wine, water, whatever?"

She shrugs. "If you'll have a beer, I'll have a beer."

He grabs two by the neck in the fridge, pops them open on his forearm, and they sit down and drink in silence.

They quietly watch some stupid talk show on television, sipping their drinks, but it doesn't feel awkward. She's halfway through her beer when she asks, "Wanna smoke?"

He's kind of surprised that she wants to continue their little ritual, but just grabs his cigarettes and lighter from the drawer in the side table, and follows her out to the backyard.

\--

They light up in silence, and Carol looks at the line of trees only a few feet from where they stand. There's an apology laying on the tip of her tongue, and she hates how this is her default setting anymore. Apologies and regrets and failing to do enough, even when she's trying.

"I'm sorry for relying on you all the time. I really don't know how to repay you."

He scoffs, and says, "Ain't gotta make it up to me. She's a good kid. Knew that the first time I met her."

Carol leans back against the wall, and after a few minutes she stubs out her cigarette. He wordlessly offers her another one, and she takes it.

"You know, he wasn't always bad. He used to love her."

He doesn't say anything, but she knows he heard her.

"It was when she started talking, actually, that there was even a hint of who he'd turn out to be. He was upset that she said _Mama_ before _Dada_ , for God's sake, and it just kind of... went on from there. And he could hold a grudge. He'd throw stupid shit like that back in my face every so often. I didn't think it was a big deal until a few years later, when it became a big deal."

They fall back in silence for another little while, until Daryl breaks it.

"I meant what I said, earlier. She don't hate you or resent you or nothin'. She loves you more than anythin'. Just wants to know you're safe." He clears his throat. "A couple times she talked to me 'bout what happened and it was always 'bout him, never you. She don't blame you."

She scoffs. "She will."

He turns to look her straight in the eyes, unwavering. "No, she won't."

She casts her gaze back to her half-smoked cigarette. It's intense, him looking at her like that. Too intense.

And then he says, clearly trying to sound offhand, "I never blamed my mom."

Carol shouldn't be quite so surprised at this, but she is.

They look at each other for a moment, two, three, stretching long past the socially acceptable length of time, and she's not sure who moves first, but all of a sudden they're kissing, with Carol's fingers curled into his hair and his hands tight around her waist and their cigarettes tossed somewhere near the trees.

She pulls at him until he's crowding her up against the wall of his house, and she can tell he didn't expect her to want it this way, but he doesn't say anything.

She's glad. She's so fucking sick of never making her own choices. She's spent the last decade catering to Ed and then the judge and her lawyer and the goddamned foster system, and now, she's being punished for it. She's only had Sophia back for a few weeks, and already she realizes how she _still_ has no control. She's glad that Sophia's as strong and independent as she can be, and Carol's so fucking proud of her, but it serves to remind her that even though she's the parent, she still lets Sophia call the shots. And she doesn't resent her for it - never in a million years will she wish to put her own needs before her daughter's - but motherhood should be the _only_ part of her life she gives way for someone else. She should have control over everything else. But she doesn't. She won't, until this whole nightmare is behind them and Ed's gotten the hell out of the picture for good.

So she's glad she can finally get something for herself. She can _want_ something for herself, selfish and short-sighted though it may be.

Carol hooks her leg around his knee, biting at his lips and she's pleased to feel him growing hard against her.

He abruptly pulls away and shakes his head, rubbing his hands over his face. "Carol, this is such a bad idea."

She scoffs again. "Yeah, but who fucking cares?"

He lets out a humorless laugh, and asks, "You don't?"

She shakes her head and pulls him back in. "I don't."

She can tell when he stops caring, too. His body relaxes and he licks into her mouth, grabs her ass and crushes her against him, and when she starts grinding herself into him, she can almost taste his groan.

He rolls his hips against hers, bends his neck to mouth along her jaw, and she feels goosebumps break out on her arms.

She runs a hand through his hair, and he flattens her against the wall, running his hands over her breasts and biting at her earlobe.

_God_ , he feels good. She shivers, and digs her fingernails in deeper when he squeezes her through her shirt. _His_ shirt.

She's rolling herself into him, almost without even thinking about it, and when she feels her loose waistband start to slip, she shoves the sweats down to the middle of her thighs and feels him curse into her collarbone. "Do it," she whispers, and he slips his hand between them, cupping her through her underwear and making her pant. " _Shit_ , Jesus Christ, Daryl," she chokes out, and kisses him again, rubbing herself against his hand, grinding her clit into the heel of his palm and feeling the curve of his fingers running along the wet spot on her underwear.

She slides her hand inside his sweatpants and when she realizes he's not wearing any underwear, she pulls on him, and he gasps against her mouth.

He presses his forehead against hers, eyes squeezed shut as she strokes up and down, and she whispers again, "Do it, just _do_ it."

He opens his eyes and grunts, "Yeah, okay," and without further ado he shoves her sweatpants the rest of the way down her legs and bats her hand away, pulling himself out of his pants and looking back up at her.

She simply steps out of her sweats and waits, and shivers at the night air on her legs.

He cups her head between his hands and kisses her, sweet and quick, and she barely has time to react before he licks down her neck and runs his hands down to her waist.

A blast of hot air hits the cradle of her neck, and she feels sweat beading along her forehead. He hitches her leg around his waist and pins it there, spreading her open, and a prickly wave of heat explodes through her.

His other hand is pressing into her hip, holding her in place against the side of the house, and his hands are big enough that he can hook his thumb into the far edge of her underwear and tug it across, exposing her bare cunt to the world, and then she feels the tip of his cock nudge against her.

She shivers, a combination of the cool night air and his body heat enveloping her, and his hips jerk forward. She digs her nails into his shoulders as he inches in so, so slowly - it's driving her crazy, far more intimate than she ever would have expected, and the muffled grunts he's making into her neck only more her more impatient.

She tries to move, tries to get a rhythm going, but he's got her pinned so tight she can't do anything, and she involuntarily clenches when she realizes that, and feels the tip of his dick jerk inside her in response.

"Fuck, Carol, I - _fuck_ ," he swears, in a broken-up rasp, and he's only halfway in, how, how, how? The slow slide is endless, she's outright _whining_ for more, and she can feel him inching along inside her, but it's not fast enough, not hard enough.

It's driving her crazy.

But then he bites her earlobe and bottoms out, and she feels his pubic hair scratch against hers, and he finally starts to move, just barely slipping in and out, and she whispers, "Daryl, Jesus _Christ_ , you have to - come _on_ ," and he just hitches her other leg around his waist instead, and she grips him tight between her knees, hooks her elbows around the back of his neck.

Jesus fuck, this is not happening. She can't remember the last time she felt like this - not even the last time she used her vibrator. She's wound up so tight, on edge, feeling like she'll snap, with heat almost painfully jolting through her, sparking when he pushes closer and there's not a breath of space between them, not anywhere.

He keeps shifting his hips, uneven and sloppy and without any finesse at all and yet she's already so close. Her skin is overheated and he's kissing so, so slowly up and down her neck and she can hardly breathe for the way he's pressing into her and she just digs her nails in harder, bites her lip and tries to keep her voice quiet.

"Move, _please_ , I can't - you have to move faster, oh my god -" and he finally, _finally_ listens.

He presses her thighs harder into his waist with his hands, so she knows to hold on tight, and he grabs her ass and angles her away from the wall.

He looks at her, a split-second too long, and kisses her, as sweet and fast as before, and returns to her neck, pumping into her, harder and faster than he was, still sloppy, still without rhythm and ragged and uneven, but it's enough, it's enough for her to push through, and when he fumbles to wrap an arm around her back and shove his thumb onto her clit she digs her heels into his ass and crushes her thighs against his waist and bites down on his shoulder and _squeezes_ as she comes, yanking on his hair and desperately trying not to make a sound.

He shudders and fucks into her two, three, four more times, and comes with a broken-up groan, muffled deep into her neck.

He presses her back up against the wall as they both come down, trying to catch their breath, and Carol's looking up at the night sky and thinking that yeah, maybe she has no fucking clue what the hell she's doing, but right now, she just can't be bothered to care.


	7. Chapter 7

The comedown's always a little embarrassing. The heaving breaths, the awkward shuffle back into their haphazardly-discarded clothes, the careful avoidance of eye contact.

But Daryl's not doing that this time.

So instead, he lifts his head up from her neck and kisses her, soft and sweet - a far cry from what he just did with her, but he can't help it. She's not just a casual fuck in a bar bathroom like he had in his twenties. She matters.

Besides, he tells himself, she's been through hell and back. She deserves a little sweetness in her life.

She murmurs against his mouth, "My legs are gonna give out if you don't let me down."

He huffs out a laugh and slips out of her, gently pushing her back against the wall, and true to her word, her legs drop down almost instantly.

He strokes his thumb over her stomach, knuckles sliding under the hem of her shirt - _his shirt_ \- and keeps kissing her until she pushes at him, and he steps back far enough for her to pull on her sweatpants.

He belatedly realizes that his dick is just hanging out for the world to see, and hastily yanks up his pants too, cheeks turning hotter than they'd already been, given what they just did.

She squeezes his hand, whispers, "See you in the morning," and departs without another word.

Which, of course, sets off a spiral inside his head.

As he's making himself comfortable on the couch - which, given that he's stiff as a board, isn't all that comfortable - he frantically picks apart every second of their night together.

She'd seemed like she was in a good mood throughout the evening, up until Sophia went to bed. Maybe she was irritated that he didn't give them enough space? But wouldn't she have said something after she came back down? Plus, he hadn't gotten the chilly vibe from her he'd gotten during visitation before, when she was making it known that she wasn't thrilled about the situation.

So maybe she'd actually wanted him to talk to her while they sat on the couch. Maybe his silence annoyed her. He'd always thought she'd appreciated the quiet time they shared after court, but what if that was only because they were smoking? And decompressing from a stressful day?

Is that why she wanted to go outside? Because she wanted him to actually speak to her? Was he supposed to comfort her? He'd tried to, but he's never been too great at it. Always fumbling and panicking that he was saying the wrong thing. Hell, she was crying on the phone this morning, and he just spit out every word that came into his head, filter be damned. But she stopped crying, so maybe that meant that he did okay? Or maybe she was just sick of hearing him talk himself in circles.

And then she'd actually opened up to him, with her _words_ , and Daryl just started _groping_ at her. Oh, god, what if she thought that the whole night was just an excuse for him to get in her pants? What if she thought he was some old horndog, same as Merle? Even worse, because he _took care of her child_. Oh, god.

And then there's the tiny voice that says, _she kissed you back, she was the one literally asking for it, she literally said with her words_ "do it" _and maybe she just wanted to have sex_ and then that opens up a whole new litany of worries.

Was he too rough? Did he not kiss her enough? Did he kiss her too _much_? Oh, shit, he hadn't gotten her off beforehand - that was sex 101. He was pretty sure he'd made her come, though, even if it was right before he did.

And then - holy fuck. Holy _fuck,_ oh god, he didn't use a condom. He - what the _fuck_ , did she not realize that? She must have known, it's not like he had one in his pocket or anything, and there was roughly two seconds between her jerking him off and him entering her, he wouldn't have had enough time to open it and put it on and what if she just didn't realize it? What if she thought he'd had a vasectomy before? Can she even still get pregnant? What if he gave her an STD? Some of them can lay dormant for a decade without symptoms, right? What if -

And so it went, for the rest of the night, and around 6:00 AM he decides to embrace the sleeplessness, chug a pot of coffee, and make breakfast for Sophia, just like the old days.

\--

Carol's alarm goes off at 6:30, and for a moment she's disoriented before she remembers - she's in Daryl's house, in Daryl's bed.

And _then_ she remembers - oh, right. She jumped his bones.

Whatever. He seemed pretty into it.

She changes, finds a bottle of mouthwash in the bathroom, and figures it'll have to do. She'll be back home soon enough, anyway.

She quietly knocks on Sophia's door, and cracks it open. Sophia's still asleep, peaceful and curled up under the blankets, and there's a pang in her chest at having to break her out of it.

Carol sits at the foot of her bed and gently runs a hand over a lump that she's pretty sure is Sophia's leg. "Time to wake up, baby. Don't want you to be late for school."

Sophia rubs her eyes, and smiles at Carol - a real smile, one that Carol hasn't seen in the morning, since she's usually grumbly and still half-asleep.

"Hi."

"Did you sleep okay?"

Sophia nods, and tries to hold back a yawn. "Yeah. This bed is really comfy."

Carol smiles. "Good. Smells like pancakes downstairs - why don't you get dressed and we'll eat breakfast together?"

Sophia nods again, and Carol shuts the door behind her.

When she walks into the kitchen, she's greeted with a veritable feast - bacon, sausage, pancakes, toast, fruit, cereal, all laid out on every square inch of Daryl's table.

"What -"

Daryl shrugs. "Weren't sure what you liked." His face turned pink. "I mean - I know what Sophia likes, and still had a bunch of stuff from when she was here, so..."

Carol smiles, and helps herself to a cup of coffee. "I hate to disappoint, but I'm not much of an eater in the morning. Have to wait an hour or two before I'm hungry."

Carol swears a frown flashes across his face, but it's gone with another shrug. "No problem. Can take some with you, if you want."

She grabs a piece of toast, just to placate him, and he hands her a plate before sitting down opposite her.

When he doesn't move to fill his plate, she smirks. "Are you a morning eater?"

His cheeks turn pink again, and he shakes his head.

That warm feeling comes back, and she takes another sip of coffee to hide her smile.

Something's eating at him, though - she can tell by the way he's chewing on a fingernail and incessantly jiggling his leg. She raises an eyebrow at him over her mug, and asks, "What?"

His head shoots straight up, from where he'd been staring at the floor. "What?"

God, he's such a dork. "You're agitating. Out with it."

She watches him weigh it, and when he doesn't speak she takes pity on him.

"About last night?"

His face turns red, and he dips his chin down in what Carol assumes is the tiniest of nods. She rolls her eyes.

"It was fun, Daryl. Let it go."

He stops chewing on his finger, at least, and starts fiddling with the handle of his mug.

Carol's another three sips into her cup of coffee when he starts to speak. "So -"

He's interrupted by Sophia bounding down the stairs, and Carol turns to watch her face light up at the sheer mountain of food presented to her.

"Holy crap!"

Carol narrows her eyes. "Sophia."

"Sorry, Mom," she says, not looking the least bit sorry, and when she sits down she grabs a fistful of bacon.

"Can you at least _pretend_ to eat some fruit?"

Sophia glances at Daryl, and if Carol wasn't already aware of how easily swayed he was, that would do it for her.

But he catches Carol's eye, and manages to mumble, "Don't go lookin' at me, listen to your momma."

Sophia's shoulders droop at the prospect of having Fun Daryl give way to Responsible Daryl, and spears a piece of melon with more disdain than it deserves.

Carol eats her piece of toast before breakfast is over, and carts Sophia off to school, feeling heartened by the change in Sophia's demeanor.

\--

After that, Carol, Daryl, and Sophia fall into a weekly sleepover at Daryl's, and they still have lunch at Lori's almost every weekend, and Sophia seems almost back to normal.

And yeah, Daryl still fucks her every time she comes over, and they haven't talked about it since that first morning. Until one night.

Daryl's eating her out while she's bent over the sink in the bathroom downstairs - Carol's not taking any chances of Sophia walking in on them in the middle of the night, and there's no way she's going to try and sneak Daryl up to his room with those creaky stairs, and good _god_ it's as if he's eating his last meal on earth - and when she's trying to catch her breath and willing her legs to hold her up long enough to for him to fuck her, he mutters something she can't quite hear.

"What?"

He clears his throat. "Said, got condoms in the cabinet."

She blinks and turns to look at him. "You're saying this now? After we've gone without it however many times?"

He licks his lips and his cheeks turn an even darker pink. "Don't wanna assume."

She can't quite hold back her eye roll. "I have an IUD, and you're the only person since Ed. And I got tested pretty often with him, just in case." She makes a vague gesture at him, and adds, "And I figure I would have heard about it if you were seeing anyone else."

He shakes his head almost before she finishes speaking. "No, no. Nobody else. Got checked too, anyway. Just..."

She waits, but he doesn't follow up, just blushes harder, and she just turns back around in response, palms pressed against the rim of the sink. "Quit worrying and just _do_ it already."

She's pleased to hear him sigh behind her, and he slips into her, sliding his hand around her stomach to rub at her clit, and she bucks back against him.

Later that night, she's thinking back on their brief discussion, and realizes she's not quite satisfied with his explanation.

Whatever. If it matters, he'll bring it up later. No point in ruining a good thing.

\--

They've had sex a few more times since Daryl tried to talk to Carol about it, and she doesn't seem all that concerned about coming back to it.

Admittedly, trying to have a discussion mid-coitus about _them_ wasn't a great idea, but still. He tried.

Well, he sort of tried. Mumbling and then lying about what he mumbled probably shouldn't count as a concerted effort.

But he's never had this before. Never been sweet on anyone like he's sweet on her. And every moment he's with her he grows more and more confident that she's in the same boat.

When he's tempted to tell Rick about what's going on, that's when he knows that he's fucked.

It's pointless, trying to shove it down. He knows she enjoys his company. He knows she trusts him. He knows she likes having sex with him. He's not much of a romantic, but even he knows that what they have doesn't seem too far off from a relationship, casual as it might be. Hell, he's basically Sophia's stepdad, at this point - not that he'd ever say that to her, or to Carol, but Sophia's said as much to him. And he knows Carol appreciates the bond he has with Sophia.

And Sophia deserves to have a more formal kind of relationship with him, right? It's not fair to her that her mom and sort-of stepdad are secretly dating and she doesn't get to have a say in it. She's had enough of a normal childhood taken from her - she should be able to rely on him just as much as she relies on Carol to provide some stability for her.

So he resolves to talk to her about it tonight, nerves be damned. He ignores how sweaty his palms already are, and keeps working on the vintage Mustang he's been trying to repair for the last two hours.

\--

Sophia's absolutely destroying him in Slapjack, and Carol's a close second, because all he can think about is his little speech for tonight.

He feels like he could jump right out of his skin.

Somehow, he makes it to 9:00, and Carol's putting Sophia to bed and sitting on his couch faster than he'd expected. She looks at him and climbs over his lap, straddling him, and leans in to kiss him before he blurts out, "Wait."

She sits back and cocks her head. "What?"

His palms start getting clammy again, and he tries to subtly wipe them off on the hem of his shirt.

Judging by the look on her face, he didn't succeed.

Well, no time like the present.

"Look, I... when we gonna tell Sophia?"

At that, she just stares at him, and sits back down on the couch. "Tell her what?"

What does she mean, tell her what? What else could he possibly mean? "Tell her, y'know." He gestures to the two of them. "We're..."

Carol crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "We're... hooking up after she goes to sleep?"

This isn't going at all how he wanted it to go. Daryl makes a noise of dismissal, and says, "Well, no, not that part. But the rest of it, prob'ly."

"What 'rest of it' do you mean?"

He shrugs and casts his gaze down to his hands, where he's started picking at his cuticles. "Y'know. Datin', or whatever."

Carol scoffs, and Daryl looks back up at her.

"We're not _dating_ , Daryl, it doesn't have to be more than what it is."

His insides turn to ice, and he can feel all the blood rush out of his face.

After what feels like an eternity, he's finally able to speak, and says, "So, what, we spendin' all this time together for Sophia and that's it?"

He hazards a glance at her, and he's surprised to find her _glaring_ at him.

Of all the ways he thought this would go, he never once thought she'd get pissed at him.

"Daryl. The _only_ reason we even came over in the first place was because of Sophia. It's not like I've been chomping at the bit to get my ass over here."

"Sure seems like that to me." He nods meaningfully at the couch, and she scoffs again.

"Yeah, well, if I'd known you'd want to get married afterwards I wouldn't have bothered."

That fucking _hurt_.

But he knows her. He knows she's just lashing out. She's not a cruel person, and no matter what she says, Daryl knows better.

"You really gonna sit there and act like I don't mean nothin' to you? Ain't no different than any old regular Joe?"

She stands up, and the chilly demeanor is back. "You're the man who took care of my daughter when I legally wasn't allowed to, and you make her feel safe. That doesn't have shit to do with me. And just because I use you to get off sometimes doesn't mean we're her parents. I'm her _mother_. You're her _friend_. We aren't gonna move in together and be a happy little family, for fuck's sake."

Daryl has nothing to say to that, and before she walks away, she looks back at him and says, "You're right. This was such a bad idea."

She heads up the stairs, and Daryl's left alone on the couch with a punch to the gut and a pounding head for company.


	8. Chapter 8

From then on, Carol's a ghost, as far as Daryl's concerned.

She's polite, and speaks to him when spoken to, but doesn't stay over anymore and doesn't really acknowledge him during the weekend lunches.

He'd had the good sense to stay away at the last court hearing, too - and since the next one is in another three months she feels pretty confident that she can keep this up.

She'd thought she was doing a pretty good job of it, too - Sophia had only asked at the first sleepover afterwards why Carol wasn't staying over with her, and she said that her work schedule changed, and that was that - but when Lori pulls her aside one afternoon, she knows she's been caught.

"Carol, what's going on?"

Carol folds her arms. "What do you mean?"

Lori's not buying it. "You've barely said two words to Daryl the last few weeks. Even _Rick_ asked me if something happened. That's how obvious it is."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It's that bad, huh?"

When Carol doesn't respond, Lori throws her hands up in the air. "Carol. You can't keep this up. Sophia must notice the tension. Aren't you two still doing the sleepovers?"

"Yeah, but I just drop her off. It's no big deal."

Lori holds her gaze for a moment, and she must see something, because she simply says, "Whatever it is, it's a mistake." She points at Carol, and adds, "If you did it, you need to fix it."

And she leaves Carol standing alone in the kitchen, feeling guilty - not for the first time - and cursing herself for her pride.

\--

Carol's home later that night, having put Sophia to bed already, and nursing a glass of wine while she tries to read her book. Trouble is, she's been reading and rereading the same page for the last ten minutes or so.

She can't focus - that night keeps replaying on a loop, cycling through her anger and regret and fear and guilt and starting again.

She feels like she's being pulled in twenty different directions, and can't keep them straight.

_It's not fair for him to push you into something you didn't look for and don't want._

_He wasn't trying to push you, he just misread the situation._

_You weren't exactly clear from the start, anyway - don't blame him just because you have no boundaries._

_Why would he ever assume that you wanted to be in a relationship? He knows exactly what happened with the last one!_

_Is this his way of trying to take Sophia?_

_Don't be ridiculous. He just likes you._

_You barely know him! You have no idea what his intentions are._

_The first time it happened you felt like he was making love to you, for fuck's sake - you knew it even then._

_He's hardly the seductive, manipulative type - he could have tried anything while he was taking care of Sophia, and he never did._

_Even if he doesn't mean to, he's caging you in, and he needs to back the fuck off._

And on and on it goes.

It's just one more thing on the long list of Carol's fuckups that inevitably come back to bite Sophia in the ass. Maybe this is her punishment for letting Ed be her father for as long as he was - it's the universe telling her that she had her shot, she blew it, and she needs to learn from her mistakes. She's got shitty taste in men, and she doesn't deserve to put Sophia through any more grief just because she likes sex.

Therapy's helped a lot with unlearning some of what Ed always told her - she isn't useless, she works hard and can succeed without him, and sometimes she can even believe she's a decent mother under the right circumstances - but there's plenty she's got to answer for, all on her own.

\--

Rick invites Daryl out for a beer one night after work, and they meet up at their old bar just before happy hour ends.

Drinks in hand, they grab stools at the end of the bar, and after a little while it becomes clear why Rick wanted to hang out.

"So. You and Carol."

Daryl glances over at him, but he's got his poker face on, which is never good news.

"What." It's not a question.

Rick just stares evenly at him until Daryl drops his head and starts chewing on his cuticle.

"Hmm."

Daryl glares at his now-bleeding finger. "Don't _hmm_ me."

"Does this mean what I think it means?"

"Nope."

Rick's silent for long enough that Daryl hazards a glance at him, and he's not sure what gives him away, but Rick just shakes his head.

"Daryl... nobody ever told you how bad an idea this was?"

Daryl scoffs, and takes a long drink of his beer in lieu of answering.

Rick rubs his forehead, and says, "Please tell me this wasn't happening while Sophia was staying with you."

At that, Daryl whips his head around. " _Fuck_ no, Rick, the hell you take me for?"

Rick holds up both his hands in surrender, but doesn't let up. "Then when?"

Daryl's almost positive this is a bad idea, but he's sad, dammit. He actually _wants_ someone to talk to about this. He's sick of the spirals and the anxiety and the moping. Hell, Sophia actually asked _him_ if everything was okay the last time she was over, and Carol's been bringing her around less often anyway. It sucks.

So he picks at the label on his bottle, weighing his options, and eventually his self-pity wins out.

"Since she got custody. First time she slept over."

Rick scoffs. "What a cliche."

"Shut your damn mouth."

"So three months, give or take?"

Daryl just shrugs, and resumes picking at the label.

"So... how are you feeling about it?"

Daryl peeks at him out of the corner of his eye, and he's all sincerity. Not making fun of him for having feelings or waiting to scold him or therapize him.

"Bad," he grunts. It'll have to do.

He senses Rick's eye roll in return, but when he doesn't respond Daryl starts to feel the words build up inside him.

"I dunno. Like shit. She all of a sudden acted like we was - like I was just some _gu_ _y_ , nobody special, like I been imaginin' the whole damn thing in the first place. A warm body."

He'd been so sure then - or, well, pretty sure, anyway - that she'd been lashing out to protect herself. She'd done that before to him plenty of times, after all; not usually cruel like that, but at least icing him out during visitation at first. But as time passed, and things didn't change, he's gotten less and less confident in that.

After a minute or so, he adds, "Maybe I was wrong, I dunno. Lookin' for somethin' that weren't there."

Rick's quiet for a moment before he says, "You won't know if you don't talk to her, though."

Daryl scoffs. "Yeah, no fuckin' way I'm doin' that. Can only embarrass myself so many times."

He means it, too. It's bad enough that he basically followed her around like a puppy dog while he was taking care of Sophia - him spilling his heart out was really the cherry on top.

Rick nods, but ventures, "Her divorce is getting finalized next month, you know. And the whole custody deal's still technically up in the air. Maybe that's got her a little off-kilter."

Oh, shit. Maybe he's right.

But that little spark of hope is quickly squashed by the overwhelming urge to shut it down, turn it off, don't bother looking on the bright side because it's _over_ , it's _done,_ she's had a million and one chances to apologize or change her mind and she hasn't, because she doesn't want to. Because she meant it.

Daryl just shrugs, and Rick seems to understand.

They drink in silence for a while, and as uncomfortable as it was, Daryl's actually a little glad that he talked about it.

And then a thought occurs to him, and he says, "Don't tell Lori."

Rick huffs out a laugh, and says, "Christ, brother, you think I'm stupid?"

\--

The divorce is finalized a week before Sophia's birthday, and on the day of her party Andrea calls to tell her that the order stands, and if Ed wants custody he'll have to appeal.

It's over.

It's _over_.

Carol repeats that to herself a hundred times in the span of the minute it takes for her to hang up and run to Sophia's bedroom.

She knocks on the door, and Sophia answers, "Come in!"

Carol walks in and can hardly contain the grin on her face. "Are you excited for your party?"

Sophia's grin matches hers. "Yeah! Carl said that Mr. Grimes bought a Slip 'N Slide for the backyard and the _whole_ class said they were coming and yesterday at school Eliza said that her mom was gonna bring that cake she brought for _her_ birthday too and..."

As Sophia chatters on Carol thinks about how far she's come - this is the first birthday that she can have a party and invite whoever she wants, have whatever decorations she wants, no matter how frivolous they might be, without having to worry about her father's mood or the potential mess or _anything_ besides simply enjoying herself. How it ought to be.

And Carol can finally give her the gift she's always wanted - the gift she's always deserved and never gotten, not until it was too late.

But she doesn't dwell on that now. Instead, she says, "Yeah, I think we'll have a lot of fun. _And_ I have some good news for you."

She crouches down in front of Sophia and holds her hands. "I just found out that you aren't ever gonna have to live with your daddy ever again if you don't want to."

Sophia's jaw drops, and she's quiet for a moment before whispering, "Really, Mom? Seriously?"

Carol nods and whispers back, "Yep. You're stuck with me."

Sophia starts crying and Carol grabs her, squeezes her tight, kissing her head and blinking back the tears that threaten to overwhelm her.

\--

When they arrive at Lori's house for the party, Carol tells Sophia to go blow up balloons with Carl and Rick, and ushers Lori into the kitchen.

Lori's tentatively smiling when she asks, "Does the look on your face mean what I think it means?"

Carol nods again and again as she wells up and throws her arms around Lori. "It's over, it's _done_ , I'm divorced, Ed's _gone_ , I have full custody, my baby is _mine_ again, she's _mine_ , Lori," and can't stop herself from sobbing.

She hears Lori start crying too, and hugs her back fiercely. "I knew you could do it, honey, I'm so happy for you."

They stay like that for a moment longer before Carol pulls back, wiping at her face. "Alright, enough of that, we've got a party to set up," and Lori chuckles.

"Yeah. Plenty of time for that later."

\--

When Daryl shows up for the party, poorly-wrapped present in tow, he's a little alarmed by the sheer number of children running around in Rick's front yard. Factually, he knew Sophia had around twenty other kids in her class, but it's another thing entirely to see it in action.

Fortunately, he spies Rick through the gate on the side, drinking a beer with some of the dads, and Daryl makes a beeline straight for him.

"Hey, good to see you, brother! You remember Glenn, right? That's Jim and that's Morales, their kids are running around here somewhere." Rick claps him on the shoulder as Daryl awkwardly waves, and asks, "Can I get you a beer?"

Absolutely not. That would mean that he'd have to make small talk, which is unacceptable. "Nah, 's okay, I'll grab somethin'. Lori inside?"

Rick nods and goes back to whatever conversation he was having, and Daryl slips behind him into the house.

He's busy keeping an eye out for Carol, too - she has to know he's coming, but that doesn't mean that she'd be thrilled about getting caught in a hallway with him.

As he's rounding the corner, he hears Lori laugh at something, and braces himself.

"Hey, Lori."

_She's_ glad to see him, at least. "Hey, Daryl, glad you could make it!" She knows better than to envelop him into a bear hug, but she pats at his arm clumsily enough that he knows she's sincere.

He waves the present around. "There a drop-off spot for these?"

"Yeah, yeah, just over here. You want anything? Beer, soda?"

As Daryl and Lori exchange the present for a beer, he catches Carol walking in from the backyard, and can't quite hide his wince well enough.

Lori looks at him with an arched eyebrow. "Gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, 's fine," he mumbles, and when Carol shuts the door behind her, he doesn't miss the slight frown she makes.

"Hello, Daryl," she says, and he's instantly taken back to those early days, when she was all frost and steel with him. It's intimidating enough as it is, but knowing just how warm and friendly she _can_ be, and how easily she can turn it off, unnerves him.

He grunts in acknowledgement, and the three of them are standing around before Lori attempts to break the tension.

"So... Carol, did you want to tell him?"

Apparently not, judging by the glare she shoots Lori, but she rolls her shoulders back all the same. "It's over, she's with me. For good."

He smiles. "Really?" _Really?_ He clears his throat, and adds, "I mean, that's great, Carol. Real happy for you. And Sophia, she gotta be happy too."

Carol nods, but there's a hint of warmth beneath the frown, and he figures that's probably as good as he's going to get.

Thankfully, Sophia chooses that moment to come crashing through the door, and Carl just after her, absolutely covered in mud.

Lori doesn't even blink. She points to the door and shouts, "Carl! Out!" and he obeys, Lori following closely behind.

Daryl smiles at Sophia. "Happy birthday, li'l miss!"

She hugs him. "Hi Daryl, thank you!" She not-so-subtly casts a glance around, and Daryl just snorts.

"Relax, ain't like I'm gonna show up to a birthday party with no present. 'S on the table with the rest of 'em."

She blushes, and Carol just rolls her eyes.

He squats down so that he's eye-level with Sophia. "Heard you got some good news, huh?"

The beam on her face tells him all he needs to know, and before she can tell him all about it, some kid comes running inside shouting about a pinata, and then it's just him and Carol alone in the kitchen.

He grabs his beer and takes a long drink, hoping to stave off the awkwardness, but unfortunately it doesn't work. So he starts picking at the label, and tries to figure out if it's more uncomfortable to him to leave with a flimsy excuse or just no excuse at all.

But she surprises him, and says, "Thank you for coming."

He can feel his cheeks getting pink, so he just mumbles, "Yeah, 'course."

Carol sighs. "Look, I know - I know I haven't made it easy. With all of this."

He can't quite hold back a snort, and he can feel her glaring at him. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"I just - you can't -" and he holds up his hands.

"You don't gotta get into it. I get it. 'S fine."

"Well, no, Daryl, I think I _do_."

Whatever conversation they were going to have is interrupted by a mom looking for the bathroom and a dad bringing in a stack of dirty dishes and what feels like a hundred kids milling around, all screaming for a new soda. It's too much.

He can feel himself curling up inside, the urge to run away threatening to overpower him, so he just sets his beer down, says, "Gotta go," and heads out the front door to his car.

It's beyond rude of him to leave without saying goodbye to anyone else, but he feels like he's about to crawl out of his skin, and the last time he felt so on edge he ended up basically destroying whatever non-relationship he had with Carol, and so he doesn't quite trust himself not to fuck something up this time.

He drives around the corner, hoping to calm his nerves a bit, and when he feels less like his blood is on fire he heads home, writing and rewriting the interaction in his head.


	9. Chapter 9

Later that night, Sophia's writing thank-you cards under duress, and Carol's reading off the list of gift-givers.

When she gets to Daryl's name, she says, "I didn't know you liked plants so much."

Sophia shrugs, concentrating on her spelling. "Sometimes after school we would go for walks in the woods and there were lots of different flowers and stuff, it was cool."

Carol feels another sharp pinprick of bitterness in her stomach - just another thing she missed. 

She thumbs through the botany book at random, catching passages here and there without really processing them while she waits for Sophia to finish writing, and comes across a Polaroid shoved into a page. 

It's a picture of a flower - kind of looks like a daisy, but it seems a bit out of place. 

"What's this?" 

Sophia glances up at the picture Carol holds between her fingers, and says, "Cherokee rose. One of the walks Daryl got me a camera and I took pictures of a bunch of them and that one was my favorite. He put it up on the refrigerator." 

A warmth spreads through Carol, too quickly for her to shut it down. 

She skims over the entry for the rose - he'd placed the photo just underneath - and she blinks back tears that she didn't expect. 

Mothers and children. 

She didn't lose Sophia, though, and another wave of gratitude washes over her.

When she puts Sophia to bed that night, she calls Jacqui.

"Hey Carol, everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, just wanted to say hi. I know it's a little late - do you have a few minutes?"

"Sure! I'm not working until noon tomorrow. Fire away."

Carol can't help the grin spreading across her face. "It's over, Jacqui. The divorce is final, the custody's final, and he's out of the picture. For good."

Jacqui _shrieks_ , and Carol has to hold the phone away from her ear for a moment, but listening to Jacqui gush about it just reaffirms how much she deserves this.

But as much as Carol wanted to tell Jacqui the good news, she's looking for some advice, too. She's always trusted Jacqui in a way she's never trusted anyone else - there's judgement, sure, but it's constructive. There's always support, tinged with tough love and blunt honesty, and Jacqui's a do-er. It's inspiring. 

"There's something else, though. I need to talk through it with someone. Nothing bad, I mean. Just stupid."

"Okay..."

Carol debates how to get into it for a moment, and decides to go for broke. "Well. I fucked up."

Jacqui snorts. "And?"

"And... I don't know." She drums her fingers on the armchair, and says, "I slept with Daryl."

She doesn't really know what she expected, but she's shocked to hear Jacqui laughing.

"Carol, are you _serious_? Oh my _god._ "

Carol rolls her eyes. "Shut up."

"Sorry, sorry, just... wow. Incredible." Jacqui clears her throat, presumably to clear out the rest of the giggles. "Anyway. Okay, so you slept with him. Are you worried about it being awkward around Sophia or something?"

Carol winces. "Um. Not exactly." A beat passes, and she adds, "I slept with him more than once. A lot, actually." 

She hears a strangled noise on the other line, and shoots a glare at the carpet. "Jacqui."

" _When_? How long? You have to back all the way up. Goddamn, I'm glad I have tomorrow morning off."

Carol groans. "Okay, well, it was at those sleepovers. And _don't_ start, I know how cliche it is. Anyway, it was going on for a while and he tried to talk me into a relationship and I don't know. My head's all turned around."

Jacqui listens as Carol rattles off her litany of concerns, and to her credit, doesn't stop to make fun of her once.

Until she finishes, of course.

"Carol, what exactly is the difference between being in a relationship with him and doing whatever you were doing?"

Carol scoffs. "Are you serious? Hooking up a few times doesn't make him my _boyfriend_ , for fuck's sake. I'm not in high school."

"No, but you're friends, you're attracted to each other, you spend time together, he's close with Sophia, you're having - well, _were_ having- sex on the regular, you're not seeing anyone else, he's not seeing anyone else, you trust him not to hurt you or Sophia, you trust him to take _care_ of Sophia, for God's sake. What else is there?"

Carol's not sure, but there's a difference. It's just not something she can put into words. 

Jacqui senses her hesitation and continues. "And it sounds like basically the only reason you broke it off is because you got scared."

"I might be a lot of things, Jacqui, but scared isn't one of them."

"Please. All I heard from you were a bunch of flimsy justifications. You _know_ he's not some cunning supervillain or some sleazebag looking to trap a housewife."

"How am I supposed to know that? I didn't know that with Ed!"

Jacqui sighs. "You're really gonna tell me that Ed would ever have stepped up the way Daryl did? Taking care of his friend's wife's friend's daughter for months on end just _because_? Playing stepdaddy to her even after she moved out because he loved her so much? You really think he was ever capable of selflessness like that?"

Carol thinks back to the early days, even before they were married. 

He was charming, sure - funny and handsome, and sometimes he even bought her flowers. She still has a watch he gave her for their first anniversary. 

But he never went out of his way to help anyone if it inconvenienced him. He was certainly his own priority. Carol can't imagine him taking care of a child that wasn't his, just as a favor to a friend - he barely took care of Sophia, even when she was a newborn. 

No, Carol supposes, men like Ed have their ways of showing who they are long before they turn violent. 

Jacqui must hear something in Carol's silence, because she says, "Look. I get it. It is _terrifying_ , putting yourself out there after what you've been through. And no way in hell would I ever push you to do something that you weren't ready for. But you like him. He makes you happy. He makes Sophia happy. You're clearly not pleased with the way you handled things. He's a good guy, Carol."

Carol nods, and shifts her legs around. "Yeah."

"So do something about it. Talk to him. Apologize and figure out what you want. Sophia's a smart kid, she's bound to notice that you guys have something going on."

"Yeah. I know. Thanks, Jacqui."

She can hear the smile in her voice when Jacqui says, "Anytime."

Carol changes the subject, asking about work and dating and life in general, and when they hang up - much later than she'd expected - she's grateful to have such a wonderful friend. 

\--

Daryl's sitting at home, zoning out before bed while some stupid zombie show plays on TV, and is startled by the sudden vibration from his phone. 

_Hey. Are you free sometime this week?_

He stares at the message in shock. 

Even after Carol tried to talk to him at the party, he didn't really expect her to reach out to him. Some half-assed almost-apology was mortifying enough, and it's not like he's stupid enough to think it really changed anything. 

Except the surge of hope coursing through his system is telling him yes, actually, he _is_ stupid enough to think it really changed everything.

He debates not answering her for roughly a quarter of a second before responding. 

_Not working on Tuesday._

A few minutes pass by and he's starting to deflate. What if she was just testing him? Or messing with him? She's not that cruel, right? What if -

Thankfully his spiral is cut short.

_Okay. I'm off at noon. Mind if I come over after?_

Daryl forces himself to breathe for fifty-eight seconds before sending his reply.

_Sure. Everything ok?_

_Yep. See you then._

He waits up a little longer to see if she'll elaborate, but she doesn't, and he's surprised at how quickly he falls asleep. 

\--

Tuesday rolls around faster than Daryl expects, and it's 11:45 before he knows it. 

He did the same stupid routine he'd done every other time - cleaned the house, showered twice, wore his least faded and holey clothes, and even managed to grab some of that fancy bubbly water Carol likes, and now he's sitting with his thumb up his ass counting down the minutes til she gets here. 

He hears a car pull up at roughly 12:27, and he tries to look like he was doing anything but waiting by the door when the bell rings. 

He whips it open a touch too fast, and she blinks at him. "Hi."

"Hi."

Could be worse, as far as greetings go, but his lack of follow-up has the tips of his ears turning pink.

She gestures vaguely towards him and asks, "Can I come in?"

He clears his throat. "Yeah, yeah, 'course," and follows her into the kitchen. "Want a bubble water or somethin'?"

He catches the faintest hint of her eyebrows raising in surprise, but she just nods, and he takes a can from the fridge and sits down at the table. 

She sits across from him, and he waits, trying to keep his legs from jiggling.

"So. Thanks for letting me come over."

"Mhm."

When she realizes he doesn't have anything else to say, she continues. "Look, I... I want to apologize. For the way - for how I've been acting."

He shrugs and refuses to meet her gaze.

"I guess I just reacted without thinking. And I'm sorry. I was really fucking mean."

He barely manages to hold back a snort. _Mean._ What is she, the neighborhood bully?

But she keeps going. "I have a habit of assuming the worst. About people."

Daryl knows it's a bad idea, but he's curious, and apparently a glutton for punishment. So he can't help but ask.

"About me?"

She hesitates, and he immediately regrets it.

"Does it matter?"

Damn. Must be bad.

He's surprised at how much that hurts.

"Guess not," he mumbles, and she rubs her hands over her face.

"Look, can I grab a smoke?"

He huffs out what could almost be a laugh, grabs his pack, and heads outside, assuming his regular position up against the wall.

They light up, and for a moment he feels like they're almost back to normal.

It's a while before she speaks, but eventually she does.

"You just... surprised me. That's all."

He's at a loss. Is he supposed to apologize for having feelings for her? Or assuming it meant more than it was? Or -

"Daryl, why did you take Sophia in?"

Huh.

Of all the things he thought she might say, this wasn't one of them. "Uh. Told you already."

She takes a drag. "I don't actually think you did."

"Oh." He shrugs. "I dunno. I mean, emergency was 'cause I owed Rick. But then... I dunno. Just felt bad."

Carol rolls her eyes. "You took care of an eight-year-old that you didn't know, indefinitely, with absolutely no other reason than 'you felt bad'? Forgive me if I don't buy it."

Daryl stubs out his cigarette. "No. I mean, I never been in foster care or nothin', don't know nothin' 'bout that, but, I dunno. Grew up kinda like her. Knew maybe another family could be bad too. Ain't fair bouncin' 'round like that already."

He'd already told her as much, during the first time they slept together, but somehow he feels more exposed than he did before. More vulnerable.

Carol doesn't look at him in favor of lighting another cigarette, and after she takes her first drag, she says, "So you're really just that good of a guy, huh?"

He feels his cheeks heat up a little, but makes a vague noise of dismissal. "Rick did it too."

"Yeah, he did."

Another silence falls between them, and he tries to figure out what she means. What he's supposed to do.

It's true, anyway - it's not like he had anything better to do, and he knows firsthand just how bad it is, growing up with someone like Ed. It's not fair to watch a little girl go through that, and then cart her off into the unknown, maybe even to another home just like that, or worse.

And Sophia's a good kid, too. Not a troublemaker or anything. Just quiet, sweet. And funny, as she opened up a little. Friendly and easygoing. Hell, the worst of it was her random crying spells. Overall, a pretty well-adjusted kid, given what she was dealing with.

And then Carol suddenly says, "When did you want to - you know. With me."

It takes him a second to realize what she's asking, and he feels his face turn pink again.

"Uh." How very eloquent.

How is he supposed to answer that? He'd never really thought about it like that. It was a crush, sure, but he always shut it down right away. Never let it get past _she's pretty_ or _she's tough as hell_ or _I hope she's impressed_ or _wow_ , _she's really, really pretty_ for his own sake.

So he just settles for a shrug. "I dunno."

She scoffs. "Okay, then."

The way she says that sounds like he failed a test. So he tries again.

"I dunno, just... happened. For a while I was just glad you stopped hatin' me."

"I never hated you, Daryl."

Oh. Well, that's good to know. "Well, whatever. Liked that we was becomin' friends, I guess. Never really got more'n that, til..."

He can't bring himself to finish the sentence - it's already embarrassing enough, baring himself for her to stomp all over his heart again. He still feels his face heat up, though.

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye, and he's slightly heartened to see her features have relaxed, almost into a smile.

"Yeah, me too," she murmurs, and he has to fight down the little bubble of pride growing in his stomach.

She's stubbing out her cigarette again, and he feels like if he doesn't ask it now, he won't ever say it.

"Was it just me?"

He refuses to look at her, choosing instead to pick at his cuticle, but he can feel her gaze on him.

It's a beat too long before she says, in that same quiet voice, "Was what just you?"

He can't bring himself to say it, but when he glances at her from under his bangs, he thinks he sees something like comprehension dawning on her face.

When she doesn't respond, he feels that bubble of pride curl into a pit of shame, and he picks at his cuticle until it starts bleeding, and he shoves it into his mouth.

Another agonizing minute of silence passes by, and she finally breaks it.

"I can't... I just got divorced, Daryl. Two years ago I was married with no end in sight. A relationship just isn't in the cards for me."

He'd expected her to say something like that, ever since everything went sideways, but it still hits him like a punch to the gut. So he nods and keeps his eyes trained on the patch of grass in front of him, hoping she can't tell how that makes him feel.

She must notice, though, because in a kind, gentle voice, she adds, "But no, it wasn't just you."

It takes a second for the meaning to sink in, and he hazards a glance at her, but she's staring at the ground, arms folded tightly.

Two peas in a pod, they are.

The pit of shame slowly starts to uncoil, and he processes that.

Okay. So she doesn't want a relationship. He gets that. She has feelings for him, and she knows he has feelings for her.

But she interrupts his musings. "I trust you, just about as much I can trust a man I haven't known all that long. But it's still not easy for me."

He clears his throat, and mumbles, "I get it."

And he does. He really does.

But it's not fair to Sophia - or either of them, really - to totally freeze each other out. He still thinks the same as he did before; Sophia deserves to have people who care about her, without any uncomfortable tension or weird dynamics. They don't have to be married or living together or anything, but they should at least be friendly. Care for each other. Spend time together.

He waits, but she's clearly not going to ask, so it falls to him.

"So... what do you wanna do?"

He can tell she was expecting the question by the way she rubs her face with her hands again, but it doesn't seem like she's got an answer prepared.

"I don't know," she mumbles, muffled by her hands, and Daryl feels the same.

He's picking at a loose thread on his shirt when she says, "Can we just go back to normal?"

He shrugs. "Sure, I guess."

"And just to be clear. That means like how it was before. Just the three of us hanging out sometimes."

He nods.

"And it's probably not a good idea for me to sleep over anymore. But I can stay for dinner and everything if you want."

Daryl clears his throat again. "Yeah, okay."

"Okay?"

He nods again, and she holds his gaze for a moment before looking away.

"We probably shouldn't spend too much time alone together, actually."

He just nods again, and she rubs the back of her neck.

"So... I should probably head out."

Probably. 

But as excruciatingly uncomfortable as this afternoon's been with her, he still doesn't want her to go. Which probably means it's a good idea for her to go.

So he just nods, _again_ , and walks her to the front door.

She opens it, pauses, and closes it again, turning to look at him.

There's something written on her face that he can't quite read, but his gut tells him to wait her out.

So he does, and she says, "What if we started not spending time alone together... later?"

He furrows his eyebrows together in confusion for a moment, and when he pieces it together, he feels his face flame up.

"Uh. You sure that's a good idea?"

She smirks. "Actually, I know it's a _bad_ idea, but... I will if you will."

He considers it for a moment - yeah, it's a _really_ bad idea, and he can practically hear Rick scolding him, but fuck that.

Daryl licks his lips, almost unconsciously, and wipes his palms on his jeans. "Yeah, okay," he mutters, and her smirk grows wider.

"Lead the way, then."

He holds out a hand and she grabs it, following him up to his bedroom, and when he's shut the door behind him and they look at each other, he suddenly feels awkward. Like a teenage virgin again.

She seems unfazed, though, and she inches into his space, backing him up against the door.

They fall back into it like they'd never stopped; he cups her face in his palm and sucks on her bottom lip, and she slips her fingers under the hem of his shirt, short nails running down his stomach, and he feels the heat quickly building inside him again.

God, he missed this.

He bites at her earlobe and her fingers dig into his skin, and he smirks against the side of her neck. And when he runs his hands down her sides, squeezing her ass, she whispers, "Bed."

She starts to pull back from him, but instead he leans down and scoops her up, so that she's wrapped around his hips and they're pressed chest-to-chest, and walks her towards the bed, tipping her down and quickly following her.

She sighs, a smile spreading across her face, and she threads her fingers through his hair.

He's never been much of a romantic, but hell, if this is the last chance they get, he wants it to be real. Not some quickie in the bathroom like almost every other time.

He refuses to think about that first time.

So he unbuttons her shirt, one by one, and when it falls open he gently runs his palms up her stomach, sliding his thumbs along the underside of her bra, and she sits up, shoving the sleeves off her arms and unclasping her bra, tossing it across the room and laying back down.

He's never actually seen her shirtless before, and when he takes a second to look at her, _really_ look at her, he sees her cheeks turn pink, and her arms twitch as if she wants to cover herself up.

He flashes her a quick smile, and musters up all his courage to mumble, "You're real pretty."

Probably could have done better than that, but she seems to relax a little, so maybe it was good enough.

He leans down to kiss her, slowly sliding his thumb up and down the length of her neck, and ghosts over her breasts, the bubble of pride growing again when she exhales hard against his mouth.

He licks down her collarbone and runs the tip of his tongue against her nipple, listening to her suck in a sharp breath and feeling her fingernails bite deeper into the back of his neck.

He ventures lower, nipping at the bottom of her belly button, and sucks a kiss into the crease between her thigh and her pelvis. He can smell her from here, and his mouth starts to water.

Once she'd realized how much he _loved_ doing this, they did it almost every single time, and it never got old. Never.

As a kid, Daryl had gotten into the habit of hunting for food - his daddy had chosen drugs or liquor or women over groceries whenever he'd gotten the chance, and Merle wasn't much better. And after he'd gotten his ass in gear at the garage, he'd been able to buy food, and hunting slowly fell by the wayside. He'd gone on trips with the guys a few times, but killing for sport felt _wrong_ , somehow - disrespectful, almost - and so his time in the woods slowly fell by the wayside.

He'd always had good instincts, though, and he'd never quite broken the habit of listen-watch-smell-see-touch when the situation called for it, and _this_ particular situation always seemed to call for it.

He'd never boast about his skills in bed - experiences scattered few and far between didn't lend him much confidence - but Carol seems to appreciate what he does, and he attributes it to how in tune he is with his senses.

He can smell her when she wants it, and hear her when she's close, and feel her when she gets there - her taste is mostly for him, and watching her flush from her belly to her cheekbones is always rewarding, too.

So he does what he does best, and licks into her, swiping his thumb over her clit and listening to her moan, and when he swaps them around he's surprised to hear her bite out, " _Fuck_ , Daryl, oh _god_ -" and break off into pant.

Ever since that first time, they'd both made sure to be as quiet as they could, to make sure Sophia could never hear them, and he'd almost forgotten just how vocal she could be.

If he wasn't already hard as hell just from eating her out, listening to her tell him just how much she wants this would do it for him, and when he finally feels her clench and shake around his fingers, he can't help but grind into the mattress.

 _Fuck_ , she's so hot, and when she yanks him up and mutters, "Take off your pants," he's only too eager to do it, and she shoves him onto the bed and climbs on top of him.

She presses her palms to his chest and slowly sinks onto him, and he bites his lip when he feels how _wet_ and _hot_ she is around him. _Fuck_.

Her eyes are shut tight, fingernails biting into his skin as she slides up and down, and he squeezes her ass while he tries to calm himself down.

But all bets are off when she leans back, bracing herself on her thighs and arching her back - he's only human, for chrissake, how the hell is he supposed to handle that?

He's trying, he's really trying, but she moans again and does this _thing_ with her hips and that's it, he's done, and he jerks inside her as he feels his heart pound against his ribs.

He grabs her thighs to stop her from moving any longer - too sensitive, he's always gotta stop right after - but she groans.

"C'mon, Daryl, I'm _so_ close, just -," and he can tell by the color high in her cheeks and the breathy tone to her voice that she is, she's just on the verge.

So he doesn't stop to think - he just twists his wrists so he's cupping the backs of her thighs and pushes himself down on the bed, pulling her down to sit on his face.

She shudders, whispers, "Holy _fuck_ ," and laces one hand through his hair, gripping the headboard in the other, when he starts licking at her.

He can taste himself, too, and his dick jerks a little at that, but he just slips two fingers back inside her and sucks at her clit, and true to her word she's shaking and squeezing around him within a minute.

He mouths at her through her aftershocks, and eventually she climbs off and falls onto the bed next to him.

He swipes his hand across his mouth and turns to look at her, and she's got a smile on her face, disbelief threaded through it, and he's sure he looks the same.

They lay like that for a while, just watching each other come down, and all too soon Carol's getting ready to pick up Sophia from school.

As he walks her to her car, he's seized by the impulse to kiss her goodbye, and she kisses him back.

A bad idea, sure, but with the mountain of bad ideas they've built between them he's not too fixated on it.

\--

At the next group lunch, it's an unspoken acknowledgement that everything's been patched up, and the relief is almost palpable.

Carol's that perfect spot between polite and friendly, not too familiar but not cold, and Daryl wonders where she's perfected it. She's keeping him at arm's length, and it sucks, but at least it doesn't hurt anymore.

That week, when she and Sophia come by for a sleepover, Carol sticks to her word and heads out after dinner.

Sophia doesn't question it, so he figures they must have talked about it on the ride here, and he challenges her to a game of Candyland.

She's kicking his ass in Peppermint Forest when she says, "You don't seem sad anymore."

She's too observant for her own good. He just shrugs and draws a card. "Was a good day today." He moves his piece four squares ahead and promptly lands on a licorice space. "Dammit."

"Language."

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Your turn."

She draws a card and as she advances her piece, she asks, "Is it because you and my mom are friends again?"

 _Way_ too observant for her own good. "We never stopped being friends."

Sophia simply looks at him, with a raised eyebrow that communicates too much attitude for a kid her age.

He relents, and chooses his words carefully. "Can disagree on stuff and still be friends."

"What did you disagree about?"

Guess he didn't choose his words carefully enough.

There's no good way to go about this. He can't make something up - he's a shit liar as it is, and Sophia can play him like a fiddle. He _certainly_ can't tell her the truth. If he tells her to ask her mom, it's forcing Carol into a bad spot, and he's not risking their newfound friendliness just because he's a coward.

But she saves him the trouble, and says, "I'm not stupid, Daryl."

"Who said you are?"

She sighs. "Nobody _said_ it, but everybody acts like it. I'm a kid but I'm not dumb."

Yeah.

Daryl knows better than most how quickly kids like her grow up; the veneer of innocence is broken much earlier, and her intuition's a hell of a lot more developed than it should be.

So he says, "I know. You're real smart. But if your mom says she don't wanna talk about it, then I ain't gonna talk about it." 

He watches her shoulders slump, and adds, "Your mom's always gonna have private stuff, same as you do. Everyone does. 'S part of bein' a person."

Sophia doesn't say anything to that, but as the night goes on she seems to forget about it.

\--

Lori comes by one day while Carol's putting away groceries, and it's a pleasant surprise. They see each other most weekends, sure, but it's with the kids and Rick and Daryl hanging around, too. It's nice to have some alone time.

They're sitting at the kitchen table, and Carol can tell that Lori's about to bring up the real reason why she came over by the deep breath she takes before speaking.

"So it seems like everything's better with Daryl, huh?"

Carol nods and sips her water, but doesn't say anything else.

Lori tries again. "Will you tell me what happened?"

Carol sighs, and fiddles with a pen laying nearby. "It's complicated. I don't know." 

Carol's got an odd relationship with Lori - there's always been something unknowable about her. Carol's no open book herself, but that's for her own sake. Her own protection.

Lori's different. Carol can't quite read her the way she can read most people. She's still good at it - Lori's usually predictable - but every once in a while something comes completely out of left field, and Carol's wondering how she didn't see it coming. 

And on the flip side, Lori's the one person who's been able to _see_ Carol, no matter how thick the layer of bullshit is. She's no mind reader, but she's perceptive. And if it were anyone else, it would be unnerving. Threatening.

But they've known each other for ages, and it's come in handy before, when things with Ed were going bad.

So she's not surprised when Lori lays a hand on Carol's, and says, "It's okay that you don't want it. Doesn't make you a bad person. And Daryl knows it."

It's such a short way to say so much, and Carol tightens her fingers around Lori's, grateful that she's got such wonderful friends.


	10. Chapter 10

Time flies by, life falls into place, and Carol enjoys the routine. It's safe. Comfortable. Easy to do.

When Halloween rolls around, and Sophia and Carl are matching dinosaurs, Carol realizes that this will be the first holiday season she's had without Ed in her life. Not living together, not married, not fighting over Sophia, not _anything_.

She's surprised at the nostalgia tinging her excitement. Thanksgiving was always a nightmare - it of course fell to her to cook a feast fit for a king, despite the fact that only three people were eating, and one of them was a small child - so she's thankful that she's not dealing with that anymore.

She and Sophia join Lori, Rick, Carl, and Daryl - who's eaten with them every year for as long as they've been friends, apparently - and it's nice. They go around the table and say what they're thankful for, and it's easy. Predictable. They're all thankful for each other - Carl's also thankful for the food - and Carol notices that Daryl looks at her a little too long sometimes, but overall, it's easy.

They eat themselves into a coma and go home with far too many leftovers.

But Christmas is different. Ed was always sober and loving on Christmas; he doted on Sophia and embraced the Santa Claus spirit, and the good mood would stick around for much longer than it usually did. She's got so many fond memories of Sophia bounding down the stairs too early in the morning, and the three of them cuddling by the fire and watching the specials on television. And after Sophia went to bed, she and Ed stacked piles of presents under the tree, and Carol felt _cherished_. She'd felt like they were a real family.

But more often than not, New Year's was when it all fell apart, and sometimes he'd make up for it with flowers and a thoughtful present on Valentine's Day, and the cycle continued from there.

Christmas, though, was almost magical, and she can tell Sophia feels conflicted about it too.

But they pick out a tiny tree, decorate it with ornaments Sophia made at school, and bake cookies and make new traditions of their own.

\--

It's Christmas, and naturally Daryl gets Carol as his Secret Santa, and when she opens her present she beams at him.

He'd given her a fancy steel lighter, engraved with the date that she was awarded full custody of Sophia, and he's over the _moon_ when she squeezes his hand tight.

He tries to sneak a bag of candy to Sophia and Carl, but judging by the stern look on Lori's face he's not too successful.

She'd given him a new handmade leather belt, though, so he figures she can't be too mad.

\--

Rick and Lori throw their annual New Year's party, and invite what seems to be half the population of Georgia.

Carol's not surprised to hear that Daryl declines - it was remarkable that he stayed for as long as he did at Sophia's birthday party, and it's hardly the same, anyway.

Carol, however, actually enjoys it, drinking more champagne than she probably should, and when a friend of a friend of a friend named Tobin introduces himself, she throws caution to the wind and kisses him at midnight.

It's nice. Easy. Predictable.

Lori's and Jacqui's reactions to Tobin are equally predictable, and that's nice and easy, too.

She sees him a few more times, and actually brings him home one night while Sophia's at Daryl's, and while it's not mind-blowing, it's nice enough.

She kicks him out, though, and doesn't realize until later that Valentine's Day is around the corner.

Shit.

\--

Daryl's stumped. 

This is Carol's first Valentine's Day that Ed's nowhere to be found - not living together, not fighting in court, not married, hell, not even in _contact_ \- and it's gotta be a milestone. He doubts that Ed ever did anything about it, but it's a lover's holiday, and she'd once said he used to be charming, so who knows.

He knows Christmas was a big deal for her and Sophia, and he's pretty proud of how he handled it, but Valentine's Day is less family-oriented than that.

Daryl doesn't even know if Carol gives a shit about it, but he knows she likes chocolate, and it's a nice gesture. Doesn't mean anything. Or so he tells himself.

He's done absolutely nothing to try and move on from her, short of repress-and-deny, so, yeah, it's a bad idea, but whatever. He'll say otherwise until his dying day, but he's always been a bit of a romantic, and he can't get the idea out of his head.

It's not like he's asking her to be his Valentine, for chrissake. He's not in elementary school. He's just being nice. Marking the occasion. He was gonna get something for Sophia, anyway.

So before he can talk himself out of it, he buys a box of Godiva samplers, a half-pound of gummy worms, a card that sings, "Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Valentine," whenever he opens it, which will undoubtedly thrill Sophia and irritate the bejesus out of Carol, and drives to the farm.

Maggie tells him that Carol just left for the farmer's market with a load of produce, and Daryl heads off.

When he pulls up to the market, he weaves through the stalls, looking for Carol, and he spots her down near the end. His hands are sweaty, and he's holding the gifts a little _too_ tightly - hopefully they're not squished - and as he makes his way over, he sees some guy hand her a box of chocolates, too.

She smiles and squeezes his arm, and he walks away, and before Daryl can decide whether or not he'll bolt off in shame, she turns towards him, surprise written on her face.

Well. That's that.

He walks over and they exchange hellos, and a semi-awkward silence falls over them.

He clears his throat, and gestures to the box of chocolates placed next to her bag. "Seem popular today, huh?"

She shrugs, and says, "Well, it's Valentine's Day. All sorts of admirers come out of the woodwork." Daryl can't stop himself from raising his eyebrows, and she adds, "Including you, it seems."

Right. His box of chocolates.

He shoves them and the card and bag of candy towards her, mumbling, "Yep. Bought stuff for Sophia, figured you should have somethin' too."

She purses her lips and nods at him, and the semi-awkward silence from before has grown into a fully awkward silence.

He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, and grunts, "Well, best be goin'."

Carol nods, and simply says, "Thanks, Daryl. Have a good day."

"You too."

When he's far away enough that he's confident she can't see him, he looks over his shoulder, and she's holding an open box of chocolates in her hand. He can't tell if it's his or the other guy's, though, and a cold pit settles into his stomach.

He drives home on autopilot, a million thoughts running through his mind.

Is the guy just a friend? What kind of friend brings chocolates to a single woman for Valentine's Day? Besides him, of course, but he's a different kind of friend. Right?

What did she mean by admirers? She knows he _had_ a stupid crush on her, but does that mean that she knows how little he's actually moved on? Does the guy have feelings for her? Is _he_ an admirer? Is she seeing him? Does that mean she's ready for a relationship? Was she just not ready for a relationship with Daryl? Or not even _interested_ in a relationship with Daryl? Or is she just sleeping with this guy?

All of it fucking _kills_ him, much as he loathes to admit it, and it seems unrealistic that she's got _two_ friends who buy her presents for Valentine's Day in a totally platonic matter - disregarding the fact that Daryl's feelings are most certainly _not_ platonic, but that's not the point - so what? What does it mean?

He finds himself parked in his driveway, cell phone in hand, and decides to eat his pride.

_Hey, can you come over_ _?_

\--

Rick shows up after he's finished work, not a moment too soon, and Daryl's scrubbed every inch of his kitchen clean, because apparently that's something he does now when he's nervous.

They sit at the now-sparkling kitchen table, sipping on beer, while Daryl works up the nerve to say something.

Rick drums his fingers on the bottle, and Daryl sucks in a breath.

"Went to see Carol today."

Rick raises an eyebrow. "Thought you two decided not to spend any more time together?"

Daryl scratches the back of his neck, refusing to meet Rick's eyes. "Yeah."

Another moment passes, and he mumbles, "Brought her some Valentine shit."

"Daryl."

He thunks his forehead on the table, arms outstretched. "What."

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Daryl just shrugs. He doesn't know. He wishes he wouldn't.

Rick blows out a breath, and Daryl steels himself for what's coming next.

"So I take it that she didn't appreciate it?"

Daryl shrugs again, and when it becomes clear Rick won't accept that as an answer, Daryl lifts his head up.

"Dunno. Brought some candy and a stupid card for Sophia, too, and it was just a chocolate box anyway. Not roses or nothin'. She didn't really seem to care one way or 'nother. Not upset or pissed." It seems now that he's started speaking, the words are pouring out. "But I saw some other guy get there before me, and give her chocolate too, and she squeezed his arm, and she said he was an admirer, and pretty much called me an admirer too, I think. Dunno. Didn't say much of anythin'. Or squeeze my arm, or nothin'. Got outta there pretty fast. Is she seein' someone or somethin'? No, don't answer that."

He isn't usually a nervous wreck around Rick - Carol's the only one that he really gets like that around, which is just great - but he supposes that the mere subject of Carol now reduces him to jelly.

Rick just blinks at him, and says, "Okay."

Daryl buries his face in his hands, and waits.

"Daryl, I... well, look, I don't wanna be an asshole, but it's been a long time now that she's left Ed, you know? And..."

The cold pit that's been sitting in his stomach since he left the market solidifies, and he feels a little sick.

"Yeah." He considers this, and asks a question that he knows he's going to regret. "With who?"

"Daryl..."

"Just say it."

Rick hesitates, and gestures vaguely. "Some guy that knows a friend of Lori's from school, or something. I didn't really ask."

"How long?"

"I think they met at New Year's."

Yeah, he regrets it. He groans, and says, "How'm I s'posed to do this? Can't just cut her out, Sophia's gonna be wrecked. How the fuck do people move on?" He can sense what Rick's about to say, and cuts him off. "And no way in hell am I gonna go on _dates_ , for chrissake, so don't even try."

"I don't know, brother. I really don't know."

They sit in silence for a while, commiserating, and the next morning at work Daryl takes every single shift that needs covering through the end of March, hoping to block out everything else.

He knows that he's been acting ridiculous. He hasn't been pursuing her, but he's done a shit job of distancing himself. Anyone looking twice could see how he feels about her, and it's embarrassing. She doesn't _want_ him. Maybe she liked him before, but she's moved on, and he's just fallen harder, and it's not right. It's not fair to anyone. He's gotta put an end to it, especially if she's seeing someone else, because if it gets serious it means that the guy will be coming around more often, and it'll only feel worse.

\--

Lori drops by after Carol's done at the farm a few days later, and Carol's irritation hasn't abated.

"He gave me _chocolates_ , Lori! And a card and candy for Sophia, which, of course, she _loved_ , and the card even _sings_ the most _annoying_ goddamn song there is, and she won't stop playing it. Who does that?"

Lori's a little taken aback by Carol's outburst, but recovers admirably quickly. "Well, didn't Tobin drop off chocolates for you too?"

Carol grimaces. "Yeah."

"I thought you liked him! You've gone on a couple dates now, haven't you?"

"Yeah. He's fine. Nice enough, I guess. It's not serious, or anything."

"Don't get too sappy, now."

Carol just rolls her eyes.

But Lori's got that _look_ on her face again, the _look_ that means she's about to dig deep and Carol doesn't want to hear it.

"Please. Don't."

Mercifully, she doesn't, but it doesn't stop Carol from thinking about it anyway.

\--

She brings Sophia to Daryl's for a sleepover, and Sophia runs up to her bedroom to drop off her bag.

Carol clears her throat, and says, "Thank you, by the way. Sophia loves the card. She ate half the candy already."

"Yup."

"And the chocolates were nice, too."

"Yup."

She quirks an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"Yup."

She can feel her irritation growing, and tries to swallow it back, for Sophia's sake if nothing else. "Do you want me to take her home? Am I keeping you from something?"

"Nope."

She narrows her eyes, but Sophia comes bounding down the stairs, and when Carol says goodbye, Daryl just crosses his arms and nods.

Whatever. If he's got a bug up his ass, it's not her problem.

\--

Except, it turns out, it _is_ her problem.

He acts like that the next three or four times Carol drops off Sophia, and he's stopped coming to the weekend lunches altogether because of 'work' - Carol's got a sneaking suspicion that's by design, but she's not going to say anything.

Tobin calls, and asks her to dinner next Thursday, and she says she'll call him back once she figures out her schedule.

Sophia's sleepovers have been Tuesdays for the last month or two, so she texts Daryl to ask to switch and he just responds with _K._

For some reason, that alone _infuriates_ Carol, and so without thinking about it, she grabs her keys and drives over to his house.

She pulls into the driveway, and she doesn't see his car.

She curses herself - why the hell is she here? It is beyond inappropriate to just _show up_ at his house, especially without calling, _especially_ without having a reason, and he's probably at work, anyway! Or running errands! Or -

Her internal monologue is cut short when she sees his car in her rearview mirror, and when she gets out, she sees him grimace.

Seriously?

He parks and turns off his car, opens his trunk, and grabs a few bags of groceries, fumbling with his keys to the front door, and lets himself in, all without saying a word to Carol.

She storms in after him, not bothering to offer to help with the groceries, and follows him into the kitchen.

"What the hell is your _problem_?"

He scoffs, and refuses to answer.

"That's really mature, Daryl. The cold shoulder. Glad we could handle this like adults."

He glares at her. "What do you want from me, Carol?"

"Friendliness, maybe? Not just a 'K' when we talk? Why are you acting like this?"

"Just doin' what I shoulda been doin' the whole time."

"What the hell does _that_ mean?"

"Don't act like you don't know."

"Don't know _what_? You've been a total dick all of a sudden. It's come out of nowhere."

He scoffs again, glares at the broccoli he'd dumped on the table. "Nowhere. Right."

Carol crosses her arms. "Daryl."

That's his breaking point. She's not sure why, but she can see it growing in his eyes, and then he's speaking for longer than she's ever heard him speak without taking a breath.

"You wanna play dumb? You wanna act like you ain't seen me followin' you 'round like a puppy dog? You wanna act like you don't know I been sweet on you? You wanna act like you hid a boyfriend for no damn reason? I _known_ you ain't got the same feelin's for me, ain't never been a surprise, but I been actin' like a dumbass 'round you, just excited to _see_ you, spend _any_ kinda time with you, and it's fuckin' _stupid_ of me! Shoulda shut it down from the start, like _you_ said, but nope, didn't do it, and now I'm tryin' to and you tryin' to pretend like somethin's changed. _Nothin_ ' changed, and that's the problem. Sophia ain't mine, never _was_ , and I gotta stop actin' like it was anythin' else."

Carol just blinks at him, not really knowing how to process any of it, but he seems to deflate all the same.

"Not... not sayin' I'm gonna ditch her or nothin'. I'm gonna stick by her for as long as she wants. Just... don't know how to do it. Ain't like you. 'S hard." He buries his face in his hands, and mumbles, "Please. Just go."

She stands there for a moment, but he's not moving, so she picks up her keys, walks out, and drives home in a daze.

\--

When Tobin asks to meet Sophia a few days later, she simply says, "Absolutely not," and when he asks why, she breaks it off without a second thought.

She calls Jacqui that night to say hi, and when she asks about Tobin, Carol scoffs.

"That's over."

"Really? Did something happen?"

"He wanted to meet Sophia. We've only gone out a couple of times, what the hell is his deal?"

Jacqui sighs. "Carol, you've been seeing him for _four months_. It hasn't been 'a couple of times.'"

Carol stops, and counts backwards. Holy shit. It _was_ four months. Where did _that_ come from?

Somehow, halfway across the country, Jacqui can read her mind. "Are you just now realizing it's April?"

"Oh my god, it's April."

"You are unbelievable, you know that?"

They laugh for a moment, and Jacqui asks, "So I take it you're feeling okay about it?"

Carol makes a vague noise of dismissal. "Please. Blip on the radar."

"Why on earth did you stay with him for so long if it doesn't make a difference?"

Carol shrugs, fiddling with her nails. "I don't know. He was nice."

Jacqui snorts. "Nice. Yeah, okay. That's another word for _boring_." She pauses for a second, and asks, "Why did you agree to go out with him in the first place?"

"Um." Carol thinks back, and realizes she doesn't really have an answer. "I don't know. He asked? We kissed on New Year's?"

"And why did you agree to keep seeing him if you didn't really care about him?"

"I don't know. He asked. Why wouldn't I?"

"Carol. Are you hearing yourself?"

"What?"

Jacqui sighs, sounding put-upon and world-weary. "When was the last time you spoke with Daryl?"

Carol doesn't respond.

"Carol."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why?"

"Because he flipped out on me."

Wrong choice of words. Jacqui's sharp and angry when she asks, "What do you _mean_ , he flipped out on you? Flipped out how?"

"No, not like that. Don't worry. He just... I don't know. He got pissed that I was dating Tobin, I guess."

"Don't tell me he's one of the guys that cry about the friendzone."

Carol barks out a laugh. "Oh my god, no. I doubt he even knows what that word _means_. No, it was more like... pissed that I didn't tell him about Tobin, or something. That I was hiding it. I don't know."

Jacqui's quiet for a beat, and Carol adds, "Or, well, more pissed at himself, or something. I don't know."

"How long ago did it happen?"

"The other day."

Jacqui scoffs. "Are you kidding me? The other _day_? And you're _still_ not putting it together? Carol, you spent four months with a guy you apparently couldn't give less of a shit about, and then Daryl gets upset with you, and then you dump the guy the next day? Are you _kidding_ me?"

Carol glares at the carpet. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Of course you don't. But you're not doing yourself any favors."

"Yeah. I know."

"Patch things up. Don't fuck it up for Sophia."

"Yeah."

They hang up, and Carol buries her face in her hands.

Why? Why does she do this to herself? Why is she wasting her time?

Maybe Daryl was never really her boyfriend, but what they had was certainly a lot more significant than what she had with Tobin, even if it _was_ shorter. A lot more emotional. A lot more meaningful.

And Daryl's right. She's known how he's felt about it - it was obvious as all hell that he was still holding a candle for her, and even if he _could_ hide it, she knows him well enough that what they had was big for him. Probably the first time he'd ever felt anything for anyone.

She wants him, that much is clear. He's hardly the Don Juan type, but sex with him is probably the best sex she's ever had in her entire _life_ , even when things were good with Ed.

And he's kind. Sweet. Stable. Cares about her. Cares about _Sophia_ , and he as much said that he felt like her stepdad more than once. She trusts him as much as she trusts Lori or Rick or Jacqui.

She _was_ scared. She was scared then and she's scared now. Logically, she knows he's not the kind of guy to trap a housewife. She knows he's not going to radically change overnight. She knows she ignored the red flags with Ed because she thought it was worth it to have someone to love. So she wouldn't have to be alone. And because when it wasn't bad, it was good, and that was good enough.

But so far, she hasn't spotted a single red flag, and her gut has told her time and again that he's safe, he's going to take care of her, he's _good_. Not just a baseline contentedness like Tobin, but an active, willing _happiness_ might lie in store for her, if she's willing to take it.

Her only worry is that he might want to jump in feet-first, and not know how to take it slow, but that will come with time, and it would only be because he's too eager. Too excited. Not because he's in a rush.

She goes to bed with these thoughts buzzing around, and in the morning, she's made up her mind.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this chapter will get pretty dark starting right after Sophia's sleepover - it gets resolved, but it's about mental illness and alcoholism, so if that's an issue for you, skip to the end and I'll summarize it.

"Daryl!"

Daryl starts at the sound of his name, and realizes he's still laying underneath the Charger he'd been not-really-working on for the past twenty minutes like a jackass, and from the sounds of it Dale's been trying to get his attention for quite some time.

He shakes his head and rolls out from under the car, wiping his hands on a rag.

"What the hell are you doing under there?"

Daryl sits up and gestures to the bottle of degreaser on the floor of the shop. "Gettin' ready to clean."

"You were getting ready to clean before I left for lunch, Daryl. It doesn't take that long to prepare."

"Sorry, yeah. Head's someplace else."

Dale sighs. "Yeah, that much is clear." He stands from his squat, shaking out his legs, and beckons for Daryl to follow. "C'mon to the office for a minute, I want to talk with you."

Fuck.

Daryl ambles after him, fidgeting with the oily cloth he's still gripping, and a pit grows in his stomach when Dale shuts the door behind him and points to a chair. "Sit."

He seems to notice Daryl's anxiety, though, and says kindly, "You're not in trouble, Daryl. I'm just worried about you."

Daryl barely holds back a snort as he sinks into the chair. That's almost worse.

Dale folds his hands together on top of his desk and Daryl can feel his stare boring into his forehead.

"What's gotten into you lately?"

"Nothin'."

Daryl's busy staring at the ground, threading the rag through his fingers over and over again, but he can still sense an eye roll.

"Don't _nothing_ me, son. You've been working nonstop but half the time you're here, you're not... _here_. Is everything okay? Is someone hurt? Sick?"

"Nope."

There's frustration just barely edging into Dale's voice, though he's clearly trying hard to keep it at bay. "Well, something's off. Is it about that little girl? Sophie, right? Is she okay?"

"Sophia. She's fine."

A tense silence follows, suffocating and uncomfortable, and Daryl's not interested in seeing it through. He asks, "That it?" and doesn't bother waiting for an answer before standing up and heading to the door.

"No, that is damn well not _it_ , Daryl, and you know it! Look, you've never been - well, the most _talkative_ guy, let's say, but even I'm not stupid enough to miss the difference these past few months. It's like pulling teeth now just to get even a single word out of you. I'm worried about you."

A fresh wave of guilt washes over Daryl for that, but Dale's not finished.

"If you don't want to talk about it, I'm not going to force you, but something's got to change, here. Do you need money? Is it Merle?"

Merle.

Daryl can count on one hand the number of people in his life that know about Merle's existence, and that's still as bare-bones as it can get. He's not fool enough to think that Carol's never asked Lori for more detail, but she never asked him, and he's grateful for that.

He's not ashamed of Merle, exactly; he's his brother, and blood's blood, but it's not a dynamic that can be wrapped up with a pretty bow. And Daryl's got no idea how to change that, even if he wanted to.

But Dale knows Merle. He knows the dynamic. Hell, Dale's the reason why Merle's in the clink, and it's been the elephant in the room ever since.

Daryl still doesn't know the whole story - couldn't make up his mind about whether or not he wanted to find out more, and even if he _did_ want to know there's not way in hell he was gonna ask - and it all happened so quickly that by the time he could really think it over it was already said and done.

He's pieced enough of it together, though. A frantic phone call from Merle sitting in county jail, high as a kite and more focused on cussing out the cop standing next to him than actually _talking_ to Daryl; coming home from the shop one day and finding his house torn apart, clothes strewn about and the couch cushions ripped to shreds; and Dale's black eye bulging as he waved off concerns, refusing to talk about it until he was alone with Daryl, and only asking one simple, quiet question.

" _Do you have_ _a brother?_ "

Daryl had just hesitated, nodded, swallowing it back like a punch to the gut, and Dale held his gaze, long and even.

Daryl had been convinced that was it, the best thing he'd had going for him _gone_ , just like that, but in the end, Dale simply gestured to the garage, saying, "Get back to work," and that was that. Never spoken about again.

There's a lot Daryl appreciates about Dale - even outside the simple fact that Dale kept him on payroll, it spoke to his character, his capacity for forgiveness and understanding leagues beyond what Daryl deserved, and while he'd never imagined himself to be the type of man that would rack up debts on behalf of his brother it seems as though that's who he is now.

But it doesn't sound like Dale's trying to cash in his favor for information. It sounds like Dale's genuinely worried, and it's the least Daryl could do to ease his mind, even a little.

"Nah, don't gotta worry 'bout him." And before he knows it, he finds himself saying, "Ain't heard from him in a while."

Dale's brows furrow in confusion. "Is that a good thing?"

Daryl shrugs, and decides, fuck it. He's here now. He's already talking.

So he sits down, and the words just spill out.

"Dunno. Was just our mama's birthday. Normally makes up a reason to call, but. Ain't heard nothin'."

"Well, when was the last time you heard from him?"

Daryl picks at his fingernails for a moment before answering. "Long while." Another pause, and then, "Last time, we was talkin' 'bout when he gets out. Where he's gonna go. Told him he ain't comin' back. Can't, 'cause his room's Sophia's now."

The pit's returned to his stomach, growing hot with shame as he remembers the conversation.

_"The fuck you mean, ain't no space for me?"_

_"Just that. Ain't no space for you. Gotta find your own place, man."_

_"You got someone stayin' there already? Some bitch ain't wantin' to share?"_

_"'S not like that."_

_"Then how 'bout you tell me what the fuck it's like, huh? 'Cause from what I remember, you ain't never been one for leavin' me high and dry."_

_"Yeah, well. Things change."_

_"Yeah. They sure do."_

_"Look, man, 's not personal! Just... got other stuff goin' on now. Stuff I gotta focus on."_

_"Huh."_

_"Merle..."_

_"Ain't nobody ever gonna care 'bout you except me, little brother. You just remember that."_

Then Merle had hung up, and that was the end of that.

Daryl's come a long way; his hellish childhood did a damn good number on him, and it's taken him longer than it should to get where he is. Rick had a lot to do with that, despite the fact that their friendship formed more or less against Daryl's will, and with Lori and Carl in tow it's gotten easier to shut out the demons.

No matter what Carol thinks, he didn't take in Sophia out of the goodness of his heart; he meant it when he said he knows what it's like growing up in a house like hers, and he'll be damned if he'll let the cycle continue. It runs deeper than Carol probably knows - hell, it runs deeper than _Rick_ probably knows, and letting some little girl endure what he did means that he's just as big a piece of shit as he always thought he was. As Merle and his dad always told him he was.

But he's trying. He's trying like hell. And while he knows Carol's not intentionally messing with him, it's hard not to let it get under his skin. Hard not to believe what his head's telling him about it.

Sophia's bouncing back; she's developing her own hobbies, and her schedule's getting busy with orchestra practice and Spanish club and the school play, and the sleepovers have tapered off as a result. He's so damn proud of her, and as much as he wishes he wasn't, he's a little sad that her growth means that he gets pushed back more and more.

He can see how it's gonna go - he'll be invited to her recital and the play at the end of the school year, but sooner or later the sleepovers will end and he'll be relegated to dinner every once in a while, and beyond that it's her birthday, Thanksgiving and maybe Christmas. And who knows? If Carol's serious with this guy, maybe by the time the holidays roll around they'll be spending it with him and his family, and Daryl will go back to Thanksgiving with Rick and Christmas alone.

He's slipping away, and it's not because he _deserves_ it, necessarily, but because that's the way life goes, and it's his own damn fault for expecting anything else.

He knows he's supposed to be proud of himself for setting boundaries with Carol - sticking up for himself and putting his needs first, but instead he's just felt like shit ever since. And now, he's back to where he was before everything started; Merle in prison, Rick and Lori and Carl responsible for maintaining his social life, and the sense that he's just drifting through life. Except now everything's got a nasty slant to it - Merle's not speaking to him, and Carl's getting just as busy as Sophia, which means that Rick and Lori have less and less free time, and the sense of purpose Daryl felt with Sophia is slipping away, too.

He's not gonna dump this on Dale's shoulders, though - even if he felt comfortable doing it, he doesn't want to make an old man worry about one of his employees having a _rough patch_ , for chrissake, so instead, he just says, "Dunno. Just been outta sorts lately."

The look on Dale's face is enough to make Daryl squirm, and that's his cue to get the hell out of the office and get his head in the game. "Anyway. Don't gotta worry 'bout me. But thanks."

He doesn't wait for Dale to dismiss him before leaving and sliding back under the Charger.

\--

And then, because Daryl's day hasn't already been emotionally wrenching enough, Carol's decided that tonight's a good night for more.

They haven't spoken since he blew up at her - while he's a little embarrassed that he reacted the way that he did, it's not like he didn't mean everything he said. She knew how he felt about her, no matter how dumb she wanted to play.

Besides, he reminds himself, it's for the best. He'll feel that way sooner or later. Probably. Hopefully.

_Sophia wants to come over tonight, if that's okay._

It's not, not really - his plans tonight consisted of rotting away on the couch with a bottle of SoCo, but he can't find it in himself to set boundaries with Sophia - Carol was hard enough - so he reluctantly agrees and puts the liquor away for another night.

_Sure._

He's learned his lesson about _K_ , that's for sure.

_Great. Be over around 6._

\--

6:00 rolls around, and Daryl's taking out the garbage when Carol and Sophia pull up.

Sophia wrinkles her nose at the trash bags, waving hello instead of her usual hug, and lets herself into the house without a moment's hesitation.

Daryl nods to Carol and tosses the garbage into the can, turning to follow Sophia when Carol stops him.

"Hey, can you wait for a moment?"

Great.

He stops and slowly turns around, and her arms are crossed - she's got an uncharacteristic nervousness about her.

He waits, and when she seems to realize he's not going to say anything, she says, "I'm sorry. For before."

He nods again, and she adds, "I, um. I think you were right."

Yeah, of _course_ he was right. He doesn't say that, though, just crosses his arms to match hers.

"I'm just really good at blocking out stuff I don't want to deal with. As I'm sure you know."

He nods, and when she doesn't say anything else, he turns back around.

As he's grabbing the doorknob, she blurts out from behind him, "I broke it off. With Tobin."

His mind goes blank for a few moments while his body freezes.

What?

_What_?

Why is she telling him this? Why does it matter? What the hell is she trying to do?

He whips around and glares at her. "You fuckin' _kiddin'_ me?"

Carol's a little taken aback. "What?"

"Whaddya mean, _what_?" he snaps. "The fuck you tryin' to say? Am I s'posed to be happy 'bout it? Sad for you? Why the _fuck_ you tryn'a get me involved here?"

"Daryl, I'm -"

"Ain't so simpleminded as I sound, Carol. We ain't friends no more, 'member? Ain't never been friends like how you wanted, anyway. You don't gotta act like we the type to do this kinda shit."

She's at a loss for words - it's written all over her face, and he gets the sense that he's a little off the mark.

Which makes the wheels turn in his head, and when the lightbulb turns on, he can tell _she_ sees him piece it together.

" _Are you fuckin' kiddin' me_." It's not a question.

To her credit, she looks a little guilty, and he can tell she's on the verge of apologizing again, so he cuts her off.

"Nope. No. Not doin' this, Carol."

Sophia chooses that moment to come back outside, and asks, "Are you guys ever coming in?"

Just as Carol says, "Sophia, sweetie, can you give us a minute?" Daryl speaks over her.

"Yep, right behind you," and he ushers her back inside, leaving the door open in case Carol decides to follow.

He doesn't bother looking back, but once he and Sophia are settled at the table, the front door closes, and Carol pops her head into the kitchen.

"Hey, I just got a call from Mr. Greene, I have to head over to the farm."

Sophia visibly deflates. "But you said you'd stay for dinner."

"I know, I'm sorry. Gimme a hug, I don't want to be late."

Sophia hugs her goodbye, and throughout the whole exchange Carol hasn't looked at Daryl once - even so, he knows she's lying through her teeth, and it's a relief, honestly. He's just barely stuffing down the anger deep enough so Sophia can't tell, and he'd probably lose his mind again if Carol stayed any longer.

But she's gone, and Daryl doesn't feel like cooking after the day he's had, so he and Sophia order pizza and wings and he tries not to let his shitty mood ruin Sophia's night.

\--

Later on, Daryl and Sophia are playing backgammon, and predictably, Daryl's losing miserably. He'd probably be losing even if he was in a decent headspace, but there's no way he's able to focus now.

"Daryl?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

Goddammit.

"Yeah, yeah, just had a long day at work 's all." He rolls the dice, moves the first piece he sees, and gestures to Sophia. "You have a good day at school?"

She expertly sends him back to start, and says, "We already talked about school at dinner, Daryl. Mrs. McLeod gave us a pop quiz and I got everything right, remember? And Sam Anderson threw up at lunch after we dared him to eat everyone's cookies."

"Right, right. Sorry. Well, how's the play goin'? Still havin' fun?"

"You moved too many spaces." She moves it back a space for him, and adds, "Yeah, I guess. Me and Eliza are dancing forks and angry townspeople so there's a lot of songs to remember." She rolls her dice and moves a piece into her home slot, and asks, "You'll be at the play, right? It's in June."

He nods, a small smile growing on his face. "Yeah, 'course. Wouldn't miss it. Already took off work. Told everyone I'm goin' to Broadway."

She sticks her tongue out at him and reminds him, "Your turn."

He rolls his dice and manages to send a piece of hers back to home, and she rolls her eyes. "It seems like you and my mom aren't friends again."

God _dammit_.

"Nah, everythin's fine. Everybody's just busy, 's all. Ain't got as much time to hang out like we used to, y'know?" She still hasn't moved a piece and he gestures to her. "Your turn."

But instead of playing, she hugs her legs to her chest and rests her knees against her chin.

_Fuck_.

"Hey, don't be like that. I promise, everythin's _fine_. You don't gotta worry 'bout nothin'."

Even to him, his words sound flat, and he cringes when she sees right through him.

"You're treating me like I'm stupid again, Daryl. I'm _not_ an idiot, I'm _not_ , and just because I'm a kid it doesn't mean that grownups should lie to me! You've been acting really weird lately and I even asked my mom and she said she didn't notice anything but she's lying too! Why won't you talk to me? Why won't you talk to my mom anymore? Did I do something?" And then she starts crying, and Daryl's the biggest piece of shit on the planet.

"Sophia, sweetheart, hey, I'm sorry. Hey." He panics and he pushes the backgammon board off to the side, scooping her up in his arms. "I'm sorry. I mean it. 'S not you, I swear. Ain't nothin' bad you could do, ever. 'S okay." He feels completely out of his depth - he's rambling, and he's never been good with crying. Even when she was staying with him, her random crying spells always made him anxious. Her therapist had told him it was a good thing, it meant that she felt safe with him and her brain was recovering from the trauma of living with Ed and being taken away from her mom, and being taken away _again_ from a family she knows and trusts, but that hardly put him at ease.

But when Sophia wraps her arms around him, sobbing harder into his chest and choking out, "I don't want you to go too, I don't want anything to change, I don't _want_ to -" he squeezes her, kisses the top of her head, and murmurs, "I know, sweetheart, I know, 's okay, just let it out," and his heart fucking breaks in two.

\--

When Daryl's making coffee the next morning, Sophia comes downstairs a little later than she normally does, and seems a little embarrassed about last night.

He crouches down to her level and looks her right in the eye. "Hey. Everybody's gotta do that sometimes. Ain't nothin' to it."

She nods, and he straightens up, gesturing to the table. "Whatchya want for breakfast? Got toast, cereal, oatmeal." An idea hits him and he adds, "Got pancake mix, too," and her eyes light up for a moment before she frowns.

"Wouldn't that make me late for school?"

He shrugs. "I'll write you a note, don't matter."

"Yeah, okay," she says, and he's pleased to see a small smile on her face.

He holds a finger to his lips and says, "Can't tell your mom though, gotta be our secret, 'kay?"

She nods, and he opens the refrigerator door. "Whatchya think 'bout bacon?"

\--

He drops her off at school with a note claiming she miraculously recovered from a mysterious illness within an hour, and when he gets home, the house feels different. Sour. Empty.

Oh. Right. He's alone, and a complete and total piece of shit.

He's not working today, so fuck it. He'll make time for the SoCo.

He chooses not to think about how much he's like his old man in this moment, daydrinking his feelings away while he's plopped on the couch, responsibilities be damned.

\--

He wakes up hungover as shit the next morning, and his rationale for choosing hair of the dog over painkillers and water is that he doesn't fucking want to deal with it, and texts Dale to let him know he's taking a sick day.

He chooses not to think about how much he's like his old man in this moment too, blowing off work for a bender, and takes a particularly long swig when it's a little bit harder to block it out.

\--

When he wakes up the next morning, still drunk, he texts Dale for another sick day, and falls back asleep to ward off the inevitable wave of self-hatred.

He wakes to someone banging on his door, and when he hears keys jingling he shoots off the couch, cursing himself for ever giving Rick a spare key.

But it's not Rick. It's Lori.

And the second she lays eyes on him, brows furrowing in concern, the wave of self-hatred hits him hard and fast, churning his stomach and forming a lump in his throat.

"Oh, Daryl," she says, and that's all it takes for him to break down.

He falls onto the couch, trying desperately to control the sob that just won't stay buried, and he feels her sit down next to him, rubbing his shoulder.

"It's okay, honey, it's okay," and he almost laughs at the familiarity of the scene.

\--

Two hours later, he's showered, shaved, dressed, and swallows the time-honored Advil and Alka-Seltzer with half a gallon of water.

He makes his way downstairs, where Lori's pulling something out of the oven that smells really, really good, and his stomach rumbles loudly to announce his arrival.

She glances over at him and says, "You look much better," and gestures to the coffee pot. "Figured you'd want some, it just finished brewing."

He nods, instantly regrets moving his head, and beelines it to the coffee, taking a seat at the table and downing it despite the near-scalding temperature.

"Careful, don't - well, never mind then," Lori says, and she cuts out two pieces of whatever she's cooked, placing them on plates and bringing them over to the table.

She slides him his serving, and he's so hungry he doesn't even care what it is, and he wolfs it down before she's even finished half of hers.

She wordlessly grabs his plate and cuts out another piece for him, and he wolfs that down too.

She watches him the whole time, face carefully blank and picking at her piece, and when he's finished his second cup of coffee he finds it within himself to speak.

"Sorry."

Lori flashes him a small, kind smile, and says, "It's okay."

His cheeks grow hot, and she must notice it, because she adds, "Rick's listed as your emergency contact at work, and Dale called the house phone first. He's worried about you."

Daryl stares at the table, feeling a fresh wave of guilt coat his insides, and doesn't say a word.

"I told him I'd check in on you. Seems like maybe it was a good idea, don't you think?"

Daryl's always appreciated this about Lori - she has a knack for handling him, without him needing to explain himself. She's comfortable reading his silences and doesn't expect more from him than he can give, and he's always surprised at how well she knows him, despite the fact that they rarely spend time one-on-one.

Lori considers him for a moment, and asks, "Have you ever thought about seeing somebody? A therapist, I mean. Someone to talk to."

He scoffs. Maybe she doesn't know him as well as he thought.

"Don't laugh it off, I mean it. You've got a nasty habit of self-sabotage, Daryl. It's not good for you. It's not good for _anyone_. You can't just bottle it up." She sends a pointed glance to the couch, and says, "Otherwise, you end up like this, wasting away with no food in the house and feeling worse than you deserve."

He knows she's right - before Merle got locked up, there were plenty of times when Daryl had a shitty day, and instead of dealing with it just trailed after Merle, joining in on whatever dumb shit he'd wanted to do on a whim. Lori didn't know about that, obviously, but he's sure she's noticed him pining after a woman for months on end, putting himself in situations that would only serve to break his heart time and time again.

And then she adds, in a soft, kind voice, "It's okay to let other people take care of you every once in a while, but you have to take care of yourself, too."

He simply nods, and she pats his hand. "In the meantime, why don't you clean up the living room, and I'll get started on the dishes." She points to the rest of the food sitting on the stove, and asks, "Do you want to keep that?"

"Yeah, 's good. What is it, anyway?"

She brings the plates to the sink and runs the water. "A kitchen sink casserole." At his blank look, she adds, "Everything-but-the kitchen sink. Basically throwing everything I can find from your pantry together and making something edible of it. There's a few canned vegetables mixed in, actually, so it can even pass for nutritious." She eyes him, and says, "Not sure when the last time you had a vegetable was, so it's for the best either way. But I'm glad you like it." She finds a roll of tinfoil, covers the casserole, and sticks it in the fridge before waving him off. "Now, get to it. You don't want ants."

She's got a knack for that, too - some of the things she says can sound so judgemental, but there's no malice behind it. It's just her way of getting things done. And it works.

So he gets to it, picking up the crusty takeout containers from the leftover wings and shoving the dirty napkins into the trash, and he thinks he can catch the faint sound of Lori humming over the running water.

\--

After dinner, he calls Carol, and when she picks up, the surprise is evident in her voice. "Daryl?"

"Hey."

"Hi."

He clears his throat. "Listen, uh. Sorry. 'Bout before."

"Oh, yeah, no. That's fine. I just -"

"Don't wanna talk about it right now. Just wanted to say sorry."

A moment of silence hangs between them, and then Carol softly says, "Okay."

He can hear the sadness tinging her tone, and before he can change his mind, he asks, "Sophia there?"

"Oh, yeah. One second."

He hears her call for Sophia, and moments later, Sophia says, "Hello?"

"Hey, Sophia, 's Daryl."

"Hi."

She sounds confused, and he can't really blame her - he doesn't think they've ever actually talked on the phone, seeing as how they visit a few times a month in person, but whatever. "Hey. Just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you're doin' okay."

"Yeah, I'm okay, Daryl. Thanks."

"Good. Keep your chin up. See you next week, maybe?"

"I don't know yet, 'cause I have to do a project after school with Eliza on Monday and if we don't get finished we might have to do it again on Tuesday."

"'Kay, no problem. I can check with your mom."

"Okay. Night, Daryl, love you."

He's pretty sure she said that by accident - she's never said that before, and it's probably a habit to say it on the phone by now after saying it to Carol so much, but it's still... something. He's not sure how to label how that makes him feel.

"You too, kid. Night."

He loves her, of _course_ he does, but it's still... something.

He's half-grateful he's not more in touch with his emotions and half-frustrated at how limited his vocabulary is, but there's not much he can do about it now.

The conversation with Lori about seeing a therapist helpfully decides to rear its head, reminding him that actually, there's _plenty_ he can do about his inability to process his feelings, and he bookmarks it for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, everything with Carol and Sophia and Merle messes with Daryl's head to the point that he has a breakdown and copes with it by binge-drinking for a few days. Lori comes over and takes care of him, helps him set his head straight, and suggests that maybe he should see a therapist, and he's (very slowly) warming up to the idea by the end of the chapter.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember... I accidentally screwed up the timeline so it's left deliberately vague. Ignore the fact that there should have been way more holiday chapters and whatnot and just take Carol's word for it at face value. Oh well!

Over a week has passed since Sophia's sleepover, and Carol's frustrated.

Sophia was clearly upset when Carol picked her up from school the day after, but she refused to talk about it, and she was pretty withdrawn even after Carol stopped prodding her.

Except, of course, after Daryl called. After he called, Sophia was pretty much back to normal.

Carol knows it's irrational to be jealous of Daryl for the relationship he has with Sophia - Sophia is _hers_ , always will be, and it's wonderful that she has someone to turn to. He's a father figure to her, loathe as Carol is to admit it.

But it's just not _fair_. It's not _fair_ that Carol didn't get to watch Sophia become the strong-willed, sensitive, smart girl she is now. It's not _fair_ that the majority of her influence in Sophia's formative years was teaching her how to be meek and mild and avoid pissing off Ed. It's not _fair_ that even now that she finally, _finally_ has Sophia back, she's still not really _hers_. She's always going to be Ed's, and that's something that Carol's been more or less able to accept, but now it's obvious that she's always going to be Daryl's, too. Sophia's never going to be able to trust her in the same way she trusts Daryl, and Carol wants to scream at the unfairness of it all.

But there's the sneaky voice, telling her _it's not unfair, is it? You married Ed, you agreed to have a baby with him, you chose to raise your daughter with him, you decided to stay with him even after he hurt Sophia_.

She's been working on that a lot in therapy - trying not to blame herself for Ed's actions, and accepting responsibility for the consequences of her inaction, finding nuance and grey areas instead of black-and-white - but there's times where she simply can't make it ring true.

She's interrupted by the gentle bell tinkling over the door, and her therapist gesturing her to come in.

Carol takes the seat she always has - a lightweight wooden chair, with no armrests and placed next to the door - and her therapist sits across from her.

Carol's grown to like her - despite the fact that she'd been more or less forced into it by the court, she'd chosen to stick with it even after she got Sophia back. The nightmares are still there, but they're not as frequent, and more often than not she's able to talk herself down through her panic attacks, all by herself.

Jessie starts the session like she always does. "So, how are you doing today?"

Normally, Carol answers with a _fine_ and they move right into Ed and Sophia. She's made it clear that her personal life, outside of her day-to-day symptoms, is absolutely off-limits. Nothing about her feelings unless it's revisiting her hellish marriage and the effect it has on her ability to be a now-single mother.

Until now.

"Not great. I fucked up."

Jessie's eyebrows shoot up at the deviation from the script, but that's the only indication of her surprise.

"How so?"

Carol takes a deep breath, and reminds herself that the entire purpose of therapy is to _talk_. To get it all out. Hell, she hasn't told anybody what's really been going on - Jacqui got the CliffsNotes version, and Lori even less so, but it's not the whole picture, and it might be helpful to really work it through.

_You think?_

She ignores the judgemental voice in her head and begins to speak.

"So you know how after I got Sophia she started to sleep over at Daryl's once a week or so?"

Jessie nods.

"So the first time it happened, Daryl and I slept together."

Mercifully, Jessie's eyebrows stay put. "Okay."

"And then every time after that, too."

"Okay. Are you still sleeping together?"

"No."

"How long did it last?"

Carol dreads answering, knowing where the line of questioning will lead, but she reminds herself it's for the best.

"About three months. I ended it maybe... well, wow. At this point it's been maybe a year? Year and a half? I'm not sure."

Jessie nods, encouraging her to keep going.

"And I broke it off because he thought we were dating, like actually in a _relationship_ , and I acted like a complete and total asshole. And now... ugh, I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I flipped out on him. Basically accused him of trying to trap me into a housewife again. Told him I didn't give a shit about him outside of his relationship with Sophia. And then we just didn't speak for a while. I mean just me and him, though. Nothing changed between him and Sophia."

Jessie nods, and asks, "Was that really how you felt?"

Carol remembers that night - she's played it over and over in her head more times than she can count, almost welcoming that familiar wave of shame rolling over her. "No."

"So how did you really feel?"

Carol stares at the carpet, working up the nerve to answer. She pauses, and says, "I don't know, it's complicated. I guess I _knew_ he wasn't just waiting for a chance to pin me down like Ed did, but in that moment it just all came flying back at me. I kind of panicked." Another beat passes, and she adds, "And I gave a shit about him. I still do."

"Have you two made up since then?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. After a while I went over and apologized, and then of course we had a goodbye fuck because when have I _ever_ made good choices, and since then I've just tried to move on. I even kind of started seeing someone else, sort of, and all of a sudden he just started icing me out and even Sophia noticed how much more distant he'd gotten, even from her, which is when I _knew_ it was bad, because normally he dotes on her and who the fuck gave him the right to let his feelings affect Sophia just because I was an asshole? So naturally I took it upon myself to flip out at him, _again_ , because _again_ when have I _ever_ made good choices, and then he basically told me to fuck off, and I broke up with the guy I was seeing, and then I decided to spill my heart out to him, which was another fucking fantastic choice, and he basically told me to fuck off again, and now here we are."

Jessie's eyebrows have raised further and further throughout her monologue, and when Carol takes a second to catch her breath she interrupts.

"Let me stop you right there and address some of this, okay?"

Carol nods, trying to stomp down the fear that her _therapist_ of all people will judge her, will tell her what a piece of shit she is, what a terrible mother and friend and person and -

"The thing that stood out most to me just now is how negatively you talked about your choices."

Carol rolls her eyes. "Yeah."

"No, no, don't do that. You're capable of making good choices, Carol. You've done it before. You chose to leave an abusive relationship. You chose to take your daughter with you. You chose to work hard to get her back, and you chose to keep Daryl around for her."

Carol scoffs. "Please. Any half-decent person would do that. I'm her mother, for fuck's sake. I'm not going to cut her off from someone that cares about her." Acid rises in her throat as she says, "Besides. It took me ten years to leave Ed, and that was _after_ he spent eight years terrorizing Sophia."

Jessie levels her gaze at her, and Carol looks away.

"Carol, I've been working with women exactly like you for a long time now. And let me remind you that you did your absolute best in the absolute worst of circumstances, and from what I can tell, Sophia is _thriving_ , and it's because of you and the choices you made." She waits for a moment, and when Carol doesn't lift her head up, she asks, "Did you ever even crack open the book I gave you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Carol's silent, so Jessie takes it upon herself to fill in the blanks.

"Is it because maybe you'd have to start giving yourself some credit? Maybe you'd have to accept the fact that there's someone out there, someone that you've never met and probably will never meet, that accepts you for who you are, unconditionally? Who understands exactly how you feel and doesn't judge you? Who validates you for no reason, other than because your experience and your feelings are actually real?"

Carol glares at the ground.

"Please read it."

Eventually, Carol nods, and Jessie takes that as a sign to continue.

"Alright. So let's circle back. Can we talk about when you broke it off? Why do you think he thought you were dating, if he wasn't trying to trick you?"

Carol shrugs, looking up at the ceiling. "I don't know, I guess because neither of us were seeing anyone else? And we were sleeping together regularly and spent a lot of time together? And it was pretty obvious that we were developing feelings for each other."

"Okay. Did you ever talk about your expectations?"

"No. Not beforehand, anyway."

"Okay. So by the sounds of it, sure, on paper it looked like a relationship, but you never talked about it, and for you it was more of a friends-with-benefits situation. Is that right?"

Carol nods.

"Okay. So can you elaborate on the apology? What happened?"

"I went over and told him that I had feelings for him, but I couldn't just jump into a relationship. I mean, I was newly divorced, for fuck's sake! I had _just_ gotten Sophia back, and I was married for _ten years_! It's not just something I can bounce right back from, I needed _time_ and I needed to get used to being independent and focusing on Sophia and just carving out a new life for myself. It's not _fair_ for him to expect me to add a whole new level to something that was supposed to be fun and easy with someone I trusted, just because we _liked_ each other. And wow, god, I sound like a middle schooler, but whatever. And so then we agreed to stop spending time alone and we agreed to move on from each other and we agreed to just be friends for Sophia's sake and then I slept with him again."

"And you said earlier that was a bad choice?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Carol buries her face in her hands. "Because."

She doesn't elaborate, and again Jessie continues for her.

"To me, it sounds like you both wanted some closure, and I'm guessing that the sex was pretty good if you were sleeping together for as long as you were, right? And there's nothing wrong with that. You're allowed to enjoy sex with someone that you care about, and someone that cares about you."

"Yeah, I guess."

" _And_ it actually sounds like you set expectations right before it happened. Almost as if you learned from last time. Almost as if you made a good choice. Not to mention, Carol, he's a grown man. He can make his own decisions. And if he wanted to sleep with you one last time, it's not because you guilt-tripped him into it, or manipulated him, or anything like that, right? You asked for what you wanted. You made your own choice. And he made his."

She thinks about that for a moment, but Jessie's still going. "And then, afterwards, he started icing you out when you started seeing someone else?"

Carol shook her head. "I don't know. I don't know when he found out about it."

"Okay, when did you start seeing this guy? How long after you ended it with Daryl?"

"I'm not sure. A long while. It was at New Year's, so. However many months that is. Or - oh, wow, that might have been a year, actually. Or close to it."

"And he got mad at you for seeing someone else?"

"No, not really. He got mad that I didn't want to tell him about it. I kind of kept it quiet. It wasn't really all that serious, and I didn't want to hurt Daryl's feelings anyway."

Jessie tilts her head to the side, a questioning look clear on her face. "Why would a relationship a year after you two broke it off hurt his feelings?"

Guilt churns in Carol's stomach. "Because it was pretty clear he still had feelings for me. And I tried to move on anyway."

The questioning look grows bolder. "Didn't you agree that you'd both try to move on?"

"Yeah, but..."

"But what? You did exactly what you agreed to do. It's not your fault he didn't uphold his end of the bargain. He chose to stay where he was. You chose to move on, just like you said you would. You set expectations this time. _It's not your fault_."

She'd never thought about it like that.

She'd been so busy beating herself up for being such a shit that she never _once_ considered that.

She'd spent ten years managing someone else's feelings - prioritizing someone else's wants and needs well before her own. Shaping her entire life around another person, trying to predict his moods and the repercussions that she'd have to endure. Her only choice was to cooperate or wait for the other shoe to drop, and even then, cooperation only went so far.

It's not her job to fix anyone anymore. As much as she appreciates Daryl for everything he's done for Sophia - and yes, she can admit it now without the lingering taste of resentment - usually - she's got no responsibility for him. He can make his own choices, and she can make hers. Just like she's always needed to. Just like she's always _wanted_ to.

Carol feels a small smile grow on her face, and the wheels are turning.

"Are you smiling because you believe that?"

"Yeah, actually. It makes sense."

Jessie smiles too. "Good. Then let's talk about the guy you were seeing. Why'd you break it off?"

"I wasn't really all that into him. It was just a nice way to pass the time, and he wanted to get more serious and I wasn't interested."

"Because you weren't ready for a serious relationship?"

"No. I just didn't want a serious relationship with him."

Jessie raises an eyebrow, and asks, "Does that mean that 'pouring your heart out' to Daryl was you attempting to ask for a serious relationship with him?"

"Yeah, I guess. It wasn't great timing. It was pretty soon after we had that fight, and he was clearly trying to move on, but I figured that if he'd still had feelings for me for over a _year_ that he'd jump at the chance to try again." Carol's cheeks burn at the memory. "It... yeah. Didn't go well. At all."

Jessie nods. "That sucks, huh?"

"Yeah."

They both fall silent for a moment, and Carol's spent. She feels more vulnerable than she's felt in a long, long time - she can't remember the last time she opened up like this, and it's _exhausting_.

Luckily, Jessie says, "So that's about all our time for today. We can pick this up next week."

Carol nods, and starts gathering her things.

"But Carol? You should be really, really proud of yourself. It's not easy to talk about all of this, and you did it." A small smile grows on Jessie's face, and she adds, "You _chose_ to do it. And it was another good choice."

Carol smiles back, and says, "Yeah. I'll _choose_ to crack open that book, too."

Jessie nods, and Carol drives home. And later that night, after she puts Sophia to bed, she pulls the book out from the bookshelf and stares at the cover, willing herself to open it.

She only gets through a few pages, but she still did it, just like she said she would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious, the book is called Why Does He Do That by Lundy Bancroft. It's considered the gold standard for understanding the dynamics of abusive relationships and I highly encourage everyone to read it!!


	13. Chapter 13

Daryl's bent the business card Lori dropped off a few days ago over and over and over, to the point where the creases nearly erase the text printed on it.

_"He's a friend of a friend. I think you'd like him a lot. Just think about it."_

She'd left the card and a note in his mailbox, and hasn't said a word to him about it otherwise. Neither has Rick.

He'd poured the rest of his liquor down the drain when Lori was helping to clean up the remains of his spiral, and after a few minutes' hesitation, he dumped the beer, too.

Just not worth it right now.

But as the days have passed since then, he's gotten more and more anxious about it. He'd been able to block out the conversation with Merle well enough, until Dale brought him up and all the shit with Carol and Sophia just reinforced what a piece of shit he is. That was the tipping point for him, and it shouldn't have been.

He flushes with humiliation, remembering the Valentine's fiasco, and when the sudden urge to break something flashes through him, he picks up the phone and calls the number on the card.

"Hi, you've reached Aaron Raleigh, licensed psychologist at Alexandria's Center for Therapy. I'm unavailable right now, but -"

Daryl hangs up without leaving a message.

This is stupid. This is _stupid_ , he doesn't need to pour his heart out to some stranger about shit that doesn't matter. He's got his head twisted up because his brother's an asshole, he's desperately in love with a woman who can't make up her mind, and he can't even _hate_ her for it because he _knows_ how badly Ed fucked her up, and he's missing a kid that's never been his and hasn't left him yet.

It sounds ridiculous when he lays it out, and he knows exactly what Merle would say if he saw him like this.

_"Aw, little brother's got his panties in a twist? That time of the month, Darylina? Man up, you fuckin' pussy, world ain't gonna baby you and you ain't never gonna make it like this."_

But what the fuck does Merle know? _Merle_ got himself locked up because of some stupid shit he did when he was high as fuck. _Merle's_ never learned from anything, and he's done plenty of dumb shit that could have taught him something useful if he stopped to think for five seconds. _Merle_ _isn't here_ , and there's a _reason_ Daryl still is.

He's not gonna let _Merle_ of all people beat him when he's miles away and doesn't want anything to do with Daryl. Fuck that.

So he picks up the phone again without giving himself time to change his mind, and dials the number.

"Hi, you've reached Aaron Raleigh, licensed psychologist at Alexandria's Center for Therapy."

Daryl steels himself to leave a message, but there's dead air instead of a prompt.

"Hello?"

Shit.

Daryl clears his throat. "Um, yeah, hi."

"Hi there. How can I help you?"

Daryl clears his throat again and rubs his hand over his face. "Uh. Friend told me to get therapy."

"Okay, can you give me a little information on why?"

Daryl scowls at the phone. "Ain't that what I'm s'posed to talk to you 'bout when I get there?"

"Yes, but I want to get a little background information first just to make sure."

He's hesitating - somehow talking on the phone is a hundred times more awkward than talking in person, which doesn't make _any_ sense to him - but then he says, "Dunno. Been feelin' like shit lately. Drinkin' too much. Shit with my brother and there's a whole... deal with a... friend or whatever and her kid and shit. Dunno."

"Okay, thank you. I know that must have been very uncomfortable." Daryl rolls his eyes. "Can I have your name?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Name's Daryl. Dixon."

"Okay. I think this would be a good place for you to come, Daryl. When are you available?"

"Whenever, dunno. Workin' every day for the rest of the week, eight to four."

"Well, I know this is a little last-minute, but I actually have an opening in two hours if you'd like to come in today."

That... might actually be easier. Less time for him to think and re-think and _re-_ think and consider canceling and -

"Yeah, okay."

"You have our address?"

"Yeah, 's on the card."

"Okay, great! I'll see you in two hours. Just tell the front desk that you're here to see Aaron, okay?"

"Yup."

Daryl hangs up and grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. What the hell is he doing?

\--

An hour and fifty-eight minutes later, Daryl's sitting in the waiting room, jiggling his leg and biting off his fingernails. The receptionist is typing away, and there's some weird sound that he figures is supposed to be relaxing, playing from some soft corner that he can't quite find.

He's just about to get up and walk out when the door tinkles, and a guy with curly hair sticks his head out.

"Daryl?"

Daryl forces himself to stand up and follow him back to an office.

The guy shuts the door behind him and Daryl notices a big couch and a cushy armchair across the room, and mumbles, "Where'm I s'posed to sit?"

The guy gestures in a wildly unhelpful manner and says, "Wherever you'd like."

Daryl glances at the couch, and figures that sitting there feels too much like getting his head shrunk, so he perches on the edge of the armchair, resting his elbows on his knees and picking at his cuticles.

"So, I'm Aaron. I'm glad you came in today."

Daryl just grunts in response.

"Have you ever been to therapy before?"

Please. He scoffs and Aaron chuckles in response.

"Well, I'm glad you're here now. Do you want to get to know each other first or do you want to just jump right in?"

Daryl shrugs. "Ain't never liked small talk all too much."

"Okay then. So do you want to start with your brother, or your friend, or the drinking?"

"Ain't you s'posed to tell me?"

"No, not unless you want me to. This should be something that we do together. Not something where I make all the rules and you have to follow them."

Daryl thinks on that for a moment, and then says, "Friend told me to come here 'cause of the drinkin'. Found me on a bender."

Aaron nods. "Is this the same friend that you're having issues with or someone else?"

Well, there goes that.

Daryl takes a deep breath, figuring it's like ripping off a Band-Aid, and spills out the whole story. "No. While ago my friend Rick - he's married to Lori, she's the one that told me to come here - he was takin' care of Lori's friend Carol's kid, Sophia, 'cause Carol's husband was beatin' on them and it got into a whole court deal, and then _I_ ended up havin' to take care of Sophia for while, was a whole deal, long story, and then Carol got her back, and then it turned into whole deal with Carol, 'cause we - y'know, I dunno, for couple months - and then that kinda fell apart and I been all over the place since and gotten real complicated, and I dunno. Messin' with my head. Oh, and Merle - my brother - don't know nothin' 'bout none of this, 'cause he's been locked up for a while, beat on my boss or somethin', never really asked, and he cut me off, and we both got daddy issues so that's a whole deal, too. I dunno. 'S just... a lot. Started a bender and Lori found me and told me to come here."

He'd been staring at the ground the whole time, face in his palms, and after a moment he risks a peek at Aaron through his bangs.

To his credit, Aaron's got a look of mild surprise, but he's nodding as if Daryl didn't just incoherently word-vomit all over the place, which is nice.

By the end of the hour, Daryl's managed to give an actual explanation of what's been going on, and he's saddled with an appointment next week to dive a little deeper.

Great.

But as he's driving home, he feels a little lighter, and while his anxiety hasn't quite settled down, it's less forceful than it was before.

\--

Over the next two weeks, there's been almost no contact between Carol and Daryl - she texted him to let him know that her work schedule changed, and with Sophia's commitments they have to hold off on the sleepovers for a while.

He's still been working to avoid the lunches, and it's too late to get someone to cover his shift this weekend so he can see Sophia instead. It's probably for the best, though; everything with Carol is still too mixed-up and he dreads having to interact with her face-to-face, knowing what he knows about her and having to deal with his feelings.

But he actually thinks to himself _I_ _can just talk to Aaron about this when I see him_ and shocks the hell out of himself.

True to his word, though, he shows up for another appointment, and when Aaron asks how he's been, he word-vomits again, though a little more coherently this time.

When he finishes, Daryl can feel Aaron's eyes on him, and there's a shift in the air.

"If Carol were here, what would you want to say to her? Imagine Rick and Lori took Carl and Sophia to the movies, or to the park, or wherever it is that lets you know that the two of you have space to talk for as long as you want, completely alone. What would you want to say?"

Daryl shrugs. "'S the whole point of me comin' here, doc."

"Well, what do you want to know?"

He picks at a loose thread on his jeans to buy himself some time, but when it's clear Aaron's not going to speak, he figures he should put the time to good use.

"Wanna know why _now_ , all of a sudden. Why she wanted nothin' to do with me for _months_ and now that I took the hint, she's interested. Why she changed her mind outta nowhere. Why she thinks I'm gonna just fall right back in, no questions asked, no nothin'."

No, that's not true. He knows why she thinks that - she _knows_ him, and she knows he's still holding a candle for her, no matter what he says, and it's because she's right. It's taking everything he has not to fall back into it, because he _knows_ he's not supposed to just act like nothing happened, but it's what he wants to do and he hates himself for it.

Aaron must hear something in his voice, because he asks, "Do you want to?"

"Yeah! 'Course I do! She's still who she was when I first started likin' her! She's smart and tough as hell and a great mom and funny and, and _kind_ , when she wants to be, when you've really _earned_ it, and she does anythin' she sets her mind to, and that's not even countin' how fuckin' _beautiful_ she is, neither. She just... I dunno, I mean I get it, I get why she pulled away the first time, I get why she didn't wanna rush into nothin' since it was _right_ after her divorce and gettin' custody and gettin' her life together, makes sense, but that don't mean it still don't fuckin' _hurt_. And if she were ready for this other fuckin' guy then it's _me_ , ain't it? 'Cause if she _knew_ I still wanted her why not just come back? Why not just say she changed her mind? 'Cause it's _me_ , and if I ain't enough for her, and I ain't enough for Sophia, if I ain't even enough for fuckin' _Merle_ of all people, then what the fuck's the point? Why the fuck do I gotta be me if all I am is a guy who's good at cars and got one friend and no family and a shitty way of dealin' with things?" And that's it, he's crying again, and he can't even be bothered to hate himself for breaking down in front of some guy he barely knows.

He hears Aaron yank a tissue out of the box next to him and the corner of it waves in his peripherals, and he snatches it out of the air and crumples it in his fist, willing himself to swallow it back.

"Breathe, Daryl. It's okay. Just breathe."

And somehow, it's working. He can feel his heart slowing down and his face stops feeling so tight and as he sucks in another breath, deep and purposeful, his eyes stop prickling and the lump in his throat shrinks, just a little.

He gets himself back under control, and although he refuses to take his eyes off the carpet, he sits back in the chair and rubs his palms on his knees.

"Bet it felt good to get that out, huh?"

Daryl rolls his eyes and doesn't answer.

"I want to address all of that, but first - I noticed that you said two completely contradictory things about yourself. About how Carol feels about you. Do you know what they are?"

Daryl shakes his head, not really interested in rehashing all the shitty things he thinks about himself after he just pulled himself out of his emotional puddle.

"Well, the whole reason this even came up is because she wants to try again with _you_ , right? You specifically, it sounds like."

Obviously.

But Aaron continues. "But then, you said that since she started seeing that new guy, it must mean that she specifically didn't want to be with _you_."

Obviously.

"Do you see that you're saying two completely opposite things?"

Daryl scoffs. "Yeah, but..."

He trails off when he realizes he's got no response to that.

What the fuck?

Aaron must see the lightbulb over Daryl's head, because he flashes him a small smile and says, "So which one is it?"

"How the fuck'm I s'posed to know?"

"Well, why do you think she'd want to try with _you_ , specifically, if she didn't want you?"

Daryl shrugs. "Dunno. Maybe she don't wanna be alone."

But as he says it, something feels wrong about it - she's not afraid to be alone, not anymore. She's grown into herself. She's comfortable with herself. He's watched her flourish on her own, gain her independence and _thrive_ because of it.

Then Aaron says, "Is that true?"

"Prob'ly not."

"Well, then, maybe you should ask."

Daryl groans. "Don't even know what the fuck to _say_ without soundin' like a damn soap opera."

"Why don't you say what you said to me?" Aaron scribbles something on his pad of paper and rips it off, hands it to Daryl, and Daryl quickly scans it.

_Why does she want to try now?_

_Why did she change her mind?_

_Why does she want you?_

Daryl glances over at Aaron. "Ain't sayin' this shit."

"Why not?"

Daryl scoffs. "You fuckin' kiddin' me? _Said_ I don't wanna sound like a damn soap opera. This shit is embarrassin' as hell."

"Daryl, I think you know that sometimes showing your feelings _is_ embarrassing, but it's worth it, too."

Yeah, he knows. This session alone proves it.

"I think the only way you're going to feel better about all of this is by talking to her, Daryl. Which is scary, I know, but otherwise you're just going to stay in your head about it."

Yeah.

"So I'm going to ask you to talk to her between now and next week."

Daryl stares at him.

"You're givin' me _homework_?"

Aaron smiles. "Yup. You have a chance to get an A+, here. A gold star. You can do it."

Daryl rolls his eyes, but folds up the paper and shoves it into his pocket all the same.

"And Daryl, there's nothing wrong with being good at cars and having one friend if you're fulfilled by that. But it sounds like you have a friend in Lori, and Carl, and Sophia, too. Even Carol, complicated as it might be."

"'Kay, well, Carl and Sophia are _kids_ , so no, wouldn't call 'em _friends_."

"I'm sure they would call you their friends."

Yeah, probably. Daryl doesn't push the point.

"And it's okay for your friends to be your family, too. It sounds like Rick and Lori and Carl and Sophia - and maybe Carol, too - are your family."

Yeah. Probably.

"And maybe you have a shitty way of dealing with things, but you're here now, and this is most definitely _not_ a shitty way to handle things."

Yeah.

Daryl glares at the carpet.

"Hey, the floor didn't do anything to you."

Daryl glares at Aaron instead, and Aaron holds up his hands in mock defense.

"Alright, alright. Look. I want to talk about Merle, too, but we're at our time for today, so let's put a pin in that, okay? And next week you can tell me all about how it went with Carol."

Daryl nods and stands up to leave.

And when he gets home, he texts Carol.

_You free sometime this week? Just you?_

He pointedly does not look at his phone until he hears it vibrate.

_It would have to be early, I have work starting at 11 every day this week._

_Off Friday if you wanna come over._

_9:00 okay?_

_Yup._

_See you then._

He tosses his phone onto the couch and goes for a walk around the block, trying to clear his head.


	14. Chapter 14

Friday can't come soon enough.

Carol's a little sick with anticipation - she doesn't know what to expect, and she regrets her whiplash reaction with Daryl. It was stupid of her to just dump everything in his lap at once and hope for the best, and it's not fair to him, either.

She's working on not beating herself up, though, and acknowledging when she's fucked up, when it's actually, really, _truly_ a fuckup and not just some manifestation of her own insecurities and resentments.

And yeah, this was a fuckup, but she'll get through it. She's gotten through worse.

She's jittery every moment until Friday at 9:00, so much so that _Sophia_ asks her what's got her on edge, but as soon as she drops her off at school she heads over to Daryl's.

She's a little early, but he's just getting off his bike anyway, and nods hello at her when she parks.

She wordlessly follows him in, and they sit at the kitchen table, and she can tell he's just as jittery as she is.

She's not sure if that's reassuring or concerning.

When it becomes clear he's not going to say anything, she ventures, "It's good to see you."

He just nods, and an awkward silence settles between them.

Carol clears her throat and tries again. "So... did you want to talk about something?"

He visibly swallows, and rubs his hand over his face. "Yeah."

She waits, and watches him gather up the courage to speak, and there's a sharp, sudden twist in her gut.

"I guess... I dunno. Been all over the place lately. Tryin' to sort my shit out. Not, not that you're shit, or nothin', just... Dunno. Like I said, head's been outta whack."

Carol doesn't really know what to say to that, so she just nods, and he continues.

"Wasn't sure where to start. Feel bad about the way shit went down."

"Daryl, you've already -"

"Just - just lemme finish. Please."

She falls silent, waiting, and he buries his face in his hands again.

"Just got overwhelmed. Some shit with Merle goin' on and it's been fuckin' with me. But I'm s'posed to talk to you about. Y'know. Whatever's goin' on. Not with Merle. Fuck." He grinds the palms of his hands into his eyes, so hard it looks like it hurts.

She doesn't want to interrupt him again, though, and the twisting inside her grows sharper.

Eventually, he pulls his hands from his face, and while he starts chewing at his fingernail, he's at least starting to talk again.

"Guess I just don't get _why_ , is all. Why there's some big change. I know - not sayin' that, y'know - fuck. Goddammit."

He rips the cuticle off his finger, and Carol winces as it starts to bleed.

That seems to do it, though - he pulls a napkin off the table and balls it into his fist, and meets her eyes for the first time since they've sat down.

"Don't get it. You don't want nothin' to do with me - like _that_ , I mean - for _months_ , you _knew_ I was just, y'know, waitin' around, or whatever, and then I do what I'm s'posed to do, and you turn on a dime. All'a sudden, what, you ditch your man and decide it's time? I been the same person I was since the beginnin', and all I was good for then was just - y'know, and now that's s'posed to be different, or whatever. Don't get it."

His mouth is set it in a tight frown, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring, and not for the first time Carol feels awful.

She knew how it looked - she knew it looked like she was just fucking with him, she knew it looked like she was just scared to be alone, she knew it looked _bad_ , and she knew she must have made him feel bad, she knew just how fucked up she was, but there's a difference in knowing it versus _knowing_ it, firsthand, and she feels guilty as ever.

He doesn't say anything else, though, and she figures it's her turn.

Luckily, she'd more or less rehearsed this with Jessie, and so she knows _what_ to say, but her first reaction is still to lash out, to tell him to fuck off, that she doesn't have to explain herself when she's already made it clear what she wants.

She catches herself before, though, and swallows it back. The entire point of her coming here was to get real. She's done it before with him, no matter how uncomfortable it was, and she'll do it again.

She has to. It's not fair to either of them if she doesn't.

Doesn't make it less uncomfortable, though.

She takes a deep breath, and stares at the table, hoping it'll be easier to let it all out.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I just..."

She grabs her own napkin and starts fiddling with it, tamping down the urge to ask for a cigarette, and blurts it out.

"It's hard. I just - this is the first time in years, _years_ , that I can finally make my own choices, and even if I made terrible ones they're still mine. I still have this - this desperate need for control, and it's not fair. And you're - nothing changed, Daryl. Nothing. I chose to walk away because I needed time to become my own person. I knew -" and she bites off the rest of what threatens to spill out.

She closes her eyes and takes another breath, trying to follow her script.

"I started dating him because it was easy, and I was sick of getting curveballs, and I didn't have to think about it. It just sort of happened. And after you - after _we_ had that fight, I realized that it was just a bunch of bad choices. Easy isn't always good. Or right. I was choosing to waste my time with someone I really didn't care about. And it wasn't fair to him. Or me. Or you. Anyone, really.

"So, yeah. I broke it off and didn't really think twice about it. And part of why was because of _you_ , honestly. _You_ showed me why it was a bad choice to be with him in the first place, really. I think - when I chose to start whatever it was with you, it wasn't a good idea, I just. Just wanted to choose something, for me. And it was stupid. I knew where it was going. I knew -"

_Fuck_. This is _not_ in her script.

She clears her throat. "I chose to walk away and that was good. I became my own person again. Became my own kind of mother. I needed it. Sophia needed it. And I wish it didn't - I wish I didn't hurt you, by doing it, but I couldn't just fall into - I needed to be alone." She huffs out a humorless laugh, and adds, "I really, honestly, _really_ never thought I would be with someone again. Ever. I was scared shitless of it. I just assumed I'd fall right back into the same pattern and, and just... lose everything. Make more bad choices. I don't know."

She opens her eyes, and there's a hint of comprehension dawning on his face, but his arms are still folded tightly, and he nods at her to keep going.

"So I'm sorry. I didn't even really _realize_ I was in a relationship with him until I broke it off. I just kind of figured it was a casual something that didn't matter and I'd only seen him a few times and it turns out everyone else thought differently and _you_ thought differently and so I realized how much I fucked it all up and I'm sorry. I dumped it on you because I thought it would help, a little, and right afterwards I realized how it looked and how it must feel and I'm _sorry_. I'm _sorry_."

It's spilling out now, and it's overwhelming - it feels uncontrolled, like when she lashes out, but it's different here, it's her just word-vomiting exactly what she didn't want to say, and it's scary, but at this point the dam's broken and she's just listening to herself talk.

" _Nothing_ changed, Daryl, that's the problem, _nothing_ changed, I knew right away with you that it would be different, because _you're_ different, because you treated me like my own person and you cared about me for _me_ , not for what I could do for you, and you - I knew what would happen if I didn't end it with us, and I don't regret it because I needed to do it, but - I just, I _know_ , it's _still_ going to be different with you, it's going to be _real_ and I don't want to fuck it up, I don't want to make more bad choices, I can't keep - I _care_ about you, I care about you so much, and I just wanted to tell you that, and it's so fucked up that I only realized I'm ready to _be_ with someone, be with _you_ after I was with someone that didn't fucking matter, and after I realized what it felt like to lose you, really _lose_ you, and I'm sorry, Daryl, I'm -" and she's crying again.

Fuck.

_None_ of that was in her script. The whole fucking point of her talking was to apologize and explain her thinking, make him see she wasn't trying to fuck with him and make him see she cares about him, get closure and own up to her bad choices, _not_ to cry on his shoulder about how badly she wants him and try to guilt _him_ into a relationship, god _fucking_ dammit -

But he reaches across the table and places his hand on hers, so gently it makes the twisting in her gut throb, and she just chokes out another apology.

"Hey, hey. 'S okay, not gonna - hey. Just breathe, okay?"

To his credit, his words seem quite a bit more deliberate than they were when he's tried comforting her before, and it makes her smile, just a little.

She's not the only one who's done some growing, it seems.

"Look, you know - 'course I still care about you. Not somethin' I can turn on and off. But not gonna lie, nice to know you can't do that neither."

He slips a finger under her chin and pulls her up to look at him, and there's a warmth there she didn't expect to see.

"Thanks, though. For sayin' all that. Makes - makes a difference."

She nods, and they fall back into silence while she gathers herself, and she notices the time.

"Oh, wow, it's so much later than I thought, I gotta get to work soon! Shit, sorry."

He shakes his head. "Nah, don't worry 'bout it. All that sharin' and carin' shit. Time flies, I guess."

They both crack a smile at that, and as she stands up to leave, he catches her hand.

"Can... I gotta have some time, though. That okay?"

She nods, and he squeezes her hand, and when she swallows back the tears that prickle her eyes it's for a different reason.

\--

Soon enough, Daryl's back at it with Aaron, and he relays the whole conversation, and Aaron pulls out a roll of stickers from his desk drawer.

Daryl glares at him. "You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me."

"I told you I'd give you a gold star. You don't want it?"

"Pfft."

Aaron smiles and shoves them back into his desk. "Well, you've earned it, either way." He grows serious, and asks, "So?"

"So what?"

"So... how does it make you feel?"

Daryl glares at him again, and Aaron rolls his eyes.

"Sorry, I know. That's very shrink-y of me. Let me try again. What does this mean for you?"

Daryl shrugs picking at his fingernails, and knows by Aaron's silence that he's waiting for an actual answer.

That's the point of therapy, and all, but it doesn't make Daryl any less irritated by it.

He sighs. "Dunno. Makes me feel a lot better 'bout myself, I guess. 'Bout her. Or... well, me and her. Or whatever."

Aaron's silence tells him that's not really an answer to the question, so he tries again.

"Guess I just - I dunno. 'S nice. Didn't have nothin' to do with me, really." His cheeks turn warm as he forces it out. "I was always good enough for her, apparently. More'n good enough, by how she said."

"Do you believe that?"

"She ain't a liar."

"Right, but do you _believe_ it? About yourself?"

Daryl shrugs, and when he doesn't answer he's grateful that Aaron fills in the blanks.

"You define yourself by how other people see you, Daryl. But it seems like you assume they only see the bad. That the good they see is just temporary, or just for show."

Fuckin' _duh_.

Aaron continues. "I bet Merle's been a big part of that, huh?"

Daryl's hit with the urge to say _fuckin' duh_ again, but conveys the sentiment with a dismissive noise.

"Right, okay. Look, if you still want to be with her, and you believe she's being honest, and you believe she's ready, and _you're_ ready, there's nothing wrong with that. Go ahead and do it. But it's important that we keep working on this, Daryl. Relationships can be tough. There's going to be rough patches no matter what, and you can't let each bump in the road eat away at you."

Daryl grunts a begrudging, "Yeah."

"So go for it, if you want it. But I think you should still come back here either way. You're worth more than how you think - yes, how you _think_ \- other people feel about you. And even though Carol clearly thinks highly of you, it's important not to let her judgement of you influence your self-esteem."

Daryl simply grunts again, and Aaron falls silent.

Daryl picks at his jeans, and mumbles, "'Kay, then."

"Okay then... what?"

He shrugs. "Guess... gonna go for it. Miss her like hell. Miss Sophia like hell. Don't -" he clears his throat. "Don't wanna fuck it up. Feels like if I say no, 's another one of those... y'know. Destructive shit. Punishin' myself or whatever. Can't be happy or nothin'."

Aaron nods, and Daryl's heartened by the smile on his face.

"That's how I feel too, Daryl."

\--

So that's settled, then.

After he leaves his session with an only mildly-threatened follow-up appointment next week, he texts Carol again.

_Free at 9 tomorrow?_

He drives to work, and as he pulls up his phone buzzes.

_Sure, want me to come over?_

_Yeah, see you then._

_Sounds_ _good._

He's not exactly smiling for the rest of his shift, but he's certainly a bit lighter on his feet, and even though his head's buzzing it's still a little easier to concentrate than it's been for a while.

It's probably helping that he hasn't had a drop of alcohol since his bender, but that's a thought for another time.

\--

They're sitting at the kitchen table, and Daryl is acutely aware of the silence that's settled between them for the last five minutes.

Carol's tried to get it started again, but for some reason his throat's locked up.

It's easier to tell her how he feels about her when he's angry, he supposes, which can't be any good, but he has to be at the garage at 10:30 and time is slipping by faster than it should.

He drums his fingers against the table, and chances a glance at her.

She's looking expectantly at him, and he feels his face turn red.

Fuck.

She sighs, and asks, "Are you trying to give me a yes-or-no answer? Or do you want to ask me something?"

He shrugs, face flaming hotter than before.

It feels so childish. It's one thing to accidentally tell her he cares about her when he mistakenly assumes they're dating. Or follow her around with hearts in his eyes for months on end. Or sneer at her and use his feelings as a weapon.

But it's like he's back in high school, watching kids exchange _do you like me circle yes or no_ notes to each other. He'd been embarrassed for them then, and he's embarrassed for himself now.

And he knows it's stupid - she's told him how much she cares about him, she told him she wants to be with him, and _still_ he's got a tendril of doubt that sounds suspiciously like Merle, whispering _don't get your hopes up, little brother, you ain't worth dogshit to her, remember_ _?_

It's easier to mumble, "Ain't askin' nothin'."

She blinks, and he sees it register that this _is_ a yes-or-no moment, and he watches doors slam and curtains pull across her face, and it strikes him that she's just as scared of rejection as he is.

He knew how alike they were - _are_ \- but it's kind of incredible to see it again in real time. Even though it's over something like this.

He buries his face in his hands, and huffs out a laugh. "Chrissake, this is dumb as hell. 'S not - nothin' changed for me, Carol. Said that already. Nothin' changed. At all. Got the same - whatever. Want it." He swallows, and adds, "Want _you_ , too."

He can't bear to look at her, but he hears the cautious optimism in her voice when she asks, "So... is it - are you? Ready?"

He simply nods, and just like that, the tension breaks.

He knows he's a dork, but god _damn_.

He feels her hands pulling at his, and he's forced to look her straight in the eyes.

She's smiling, though, and despite how hot his face is he cracks a small smile too.

"Are you gonna say it's a bad idea again?"

He shrugs, and mumbles, "Don't think it is." A bolt of fear pulses through him, and he asks, "Do you?"

She shakes her head, smile growing wider, and she motions to the clock on the wall. "You gotta get going to work, though, don't you?"

He nods, and she says, "Sophia's free on Friday, if you would like me to bring her by."

"Yeah, that'd be nice." He hesitates, and adds, "You can stay for dinner, if you wanna. Just... don't think 's a good idea for sleepovers. Yet."

Carol's smile softens, and she says, "Yeah, that's probably true."

He's glad she's not pushing him on it - it's too easy for him to throw common sense out the window with her, and he's gotta start actually working on what Aaron keeps telling him, anyhow.

He walks her to her car and squeezes her hand goodbye, and he can see the smile on her face as she drives off.

He's smiling, too.


	15. Chapter 15

For the next few weeks, Carol's walking on air.

Sophia had noticed it right away - the night that Carol and Daryl had decided to go for it, she had called her out at the dinner table.

"You seem like you're in a really good mood, Mom."

Carol had smiled. "Just had a good day, baby. Gotta embrace them when they happen, you know?"

Sophia had furrowed her brow at her, like she didn't really buy it, but after a while her infectious good mood had rubbed off.

There was a silent acknowledgement not to discuss it with Sophia, not yet - there was no point in putting all this pressure on something so brand-new, and Carol privately thought that there was still a chance that Daryl would change his mind, sick of the back-and-forth and complications.

He still hasn't, though, and she's growing more hopeful that he won't.

One weekend, while Carol and Lori are washing the dishes from lunch and Rick is playing Frisbee with Carl and Sophia, Lori bumps her hip.

"You've seemed really good lately."

Carol smiles - she can't help it now, everything makes her smile, which is so much cornier than she ever thought she'd be, but that's the honeymoon period talking - and shrugs. "Been feeling really good lately."

Lori dries off a plate and looks at her out of the corner of her eye. "Well, whatever it is, I'm glad. You deserve it, honey, more than anyone."

Carol bumps her hip back, and quirks her lips.

It's nice to feel like that.

\--

Soon it's Career Day at school, and Carol can't get the day off of work, so Rick offers to drop Sophia off after he presents with Carl.

Carol beats him home by minutes, and after she ushers Sophia inside, Rick asks her to wait for a moment.

She frowns, but steps into the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

"Everything okay?"

Rick nods. "Yeah, I just wanted to talk to you about something." He holds her gaze for a moment, and says, "Daryl told me what's going on with you two."

Carol's frown deepens. Goddammit.

"No, no, don't do that. You know he's got no poker face. Man's been walking around looking like a toothpaste commercial, it's ridiculous."

Something warm shoots through her at that, even if it _is_ annoying.

"You going to tell me it's a bad idea?"

He smirks. "Would you listen to me if I did?"

"Probably not, but it'd be good to know."

Rick sighs, looking back at Carl's face pressed up against the car window. "Well, I don't. I think it's good, for both of you. Just," and he looks back at Carol, with that cop gaze boring into her. "Just be careful with him, alright?"

Carol's irritation softens, and she nods. "Yeah, I know."

"For what it's worth, I told him to be careful with you, too."

"Thanks."

Rick flashes a smile at her, and when he sees Carl breathing against the glass like a pufferfish he rolls his eyes. "That's my cue. Good seeing you, Carol. Take care."

"You too."

She heads back inside, and she's pleased to notice that she didn't take any offense from what Rick said - she didn't assume that he was criticizing her or threatening her or forcing her to open up to him.

She knows Jessie will be proud, but she's proud, too.

Later that night, she texts Daryl.

 _Rick,_ _huh?_

He responds a few minutes later.

_Shit. Sorry. Just happened. Didn't mean to._

_It's fine, he was gonna find out sooner or later._

_Still on for tomorrow night?_

_Yeah. Pick me up at 7?_

_See you then_.

\--

It's Friday night, and Carol dropped Sophia off at Eliza's for a sleepover, and she's killing time before dinner watching reruns of some stupid zombie show that seems to be on every waking hour.

Her phone rings, and she mutes the show. The number's unknown, and she picks it up.

"Hello?"

There's silence.

Carol tries again. "Hello? Can you hear me?"

Someone starts breathing, loud and heavy, and Carol feels the blood drain out of her face.

Fuck.

She hangs up, screenshots the call log, and emails it to Andrea.

_Just got a call, someone breathing on the other line, don't know who but I hung up._

The doorbell rings, and she's frozen.

She hasn't had to use the baseball bat hidden under the sofa since moving in, but she pulls it out and calls Daryl.

"Hey!"

"Hey, are you outside?"

"Yeah," he says, and she nearly sags with relief. "Everythin' okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be down in a minute."

She gathers her things, double-checking that her pepper spray is still in her purse, and heads downstairs.

He's standing outside the door with a worried look on his face, and asks, "You sure everythin's okay? Don't seem like it."

"Yeah, just - can we get in the car first?"

"Yeah, yeah, 'course. 'S right here," and he motions around the corner.

He hurries to open her door for her, and she'd be fondly rolling her eyes at him if she weren't so shaken up.

He slides in next to her, and she gestures vaguely at the street. "Let's just get out of here, please."

He nods, the worry line between his eyebrows deepening, and they drive to the restaurant in tense silence.

He pulls up in a well-lit spot, just under a lamppost, and turns off the car. She'd been practicing her breathing on the way over, and her heart's not pounding quite so hard and her shoulders are relaxing, and she's grateful to Jessie for the thousandth time.

"You wanna talk?"

Carol exhales, long and shaky, and closes her eyes. "Yeah, just... literally right before you rang the doorbell, I got some weird call on my cell, some asshole just doing that whole heavy-breathing shtick and it just freaked me out, that's all. It's fine."

"Don't seem fine."

Carol scoffs, but doesn't say anything.

She can feel Daryl's eyes on her, and hears the cautious note in his voice. "You tell Andrea? Just in case?"

"Yeah, sent her an email."

"Good, 's a good idea."

They sit in silence, and she notices Daryl fidgeting next to her. "It's fine, Daryl, quit agitating."

"Just don't wanna say the wrong thing or nothin'."

"You won't. It's _fine_. Let's go inside."

She reaches for the door handle, but he touches the point of her elbow before she can unlock the car. "Hey. If you don't wanna do this tonight, we don't gotta. Can do whatever else. Even go home if you want. I mean it."

Some of her nerves slow down at that, and she glances over at him. He's got worry written all over the lines of his face, and that familiar warmth comes back, just a little.

"I want to do this. I _definitely_ don't want to be home right now. Let's go."

A few of his frown lines ease up, and she flashes a small smile at him.

"Thank you, though."

He nods, and when she gets out of the car, he follows her.

"Thought I was s'posed to open that for you."

This time, she _does_ roll her eyes at him, and says, "Dork."

He grins, and Rick was right. He looks like a toothpaste commercial.

\--

Daryl's fumbling with the date; he had expected to pull out Carol's seat for her at the restaurant, except they were sent to a booth instead so he just stood at the table like a jackass until she poked him in the back.

He'd also forgotten to compliment her on how she looks until she got up to use the restroom, because he was too worried about her when he picked her up and on the drive over. She looks _really_ pretty, too, even though she'd just rolled her eyes again and flashed him a little smirk when he told her that.

Then she somehow sneaked her credit card into the billfold under his, so they ended up splitting dinner fifty-fifty, _and_ she beat him to the car, so he couldn't even open the door for her.

He knows it's probably overkill, but fuck it. He's never _been_ on a real, actual date before - he doesn't think the dinners with Sophia and lunches at Rick's really count. There's gotta be a reason that all those dumbass romantic comedies show guys doing all this, right?

So that's why he's sitting in the driver's seat in the parking lot in front of her apartment, nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, wondering if he's supposed to kiss her or schedule another date or run outside the car to open her door or -

"Daryl, if you say _I had a nice time tonight_ I'm gonna lose it, I swear."

He whips his head over to look at her, but she's smiling, and he feels his cheeks get a little pink.

"That obvious, huh?"

"Yeah, just a little."

They chuckle, and then he says, "Did, though. Was nice."

Her smile softens, and she says, "Yeah, it was."

She glances at the door to her building and sighs, and Daryl catches her jawbone clenching.

"Hey, if you, y'know, want me to come up, I can. Not - not like that, I mean, just, y'know. 'Cause of before."

Her eyes flicker over to him and she rolls her shoulders. "No, no. It's fine. It's silly of me to get all twisted up by one stupid phone call."

Daryl reaches out and touches her elbow again, and says, "'S okay if you are, though."

A beat passes, and she slumps into the seat, burying her face in her hands. "I'm just so fucking _sick_ of it, Daryl! It's been ages since he's been around, I've actually started to have days where I don't think about him even once, and he gets to just show up out of the fucking blue whenever he feels like it? And it might not even be him? How is this fucking fair, at _all_?"

"Not fair."

"No, it's not, and it's bullshit. It's _not_ fucking fair. I hate him. I hate him so _fucking_ much. I hate that he took up so much of my life and now he's gone and he's _still_ taking up my life and I _fucking hate him_."

She's almost shaking with anger, and he runs his palm slowly up and down her arm, not knowing what he's supposed to do, but she forces a shaky breath out and drops her hands.

"Sorry, I'm just..."

"Don't gotta say sorry for nothin', you earned it."

Carol looks over at him, and she's got an inscrutable expression on her face, and something in the pit of Daryl's gut coils.

She holds his gaze, and murmurs, "Thank you," and he nods.

She looks back at the building, and shakes her head. "I'll be fine, really," and gets out of the car.

He follows her out, and says, "Lemme walk you up, at least," and she smirks at him again.

"Oldest trick in the book, Dixon."

He flushes, and when they're in front of her door, she squeezes his hand and kisses him on the cheek. "Thanks. For everything."

He gets the sense it's not just about tonight, and he can't fight the smile that grows across his face, and squeezes her hand back. "'Course."

They say goodnight and when he gets home, he texts her.

_You good?_

He brushes his teeth and changes, and by the time he gets in bed she's responded.

_Yeah, I'm good. Goodnight._

_Night._

It takes a while for him to fall asleep, running through each minute of the night over and over and over again, but when he does it's with a smile on his face.

\--

And so they go like that for a while - even though the sleepovers aren't as frequent and the lunches taper off, they still spend time together, and Daryl and Carol end up talking almost every day, even just for a couple of minutes.

They have another few dates here and there, and it's always chaste, and Daryl's always worried about doing something wrong, and Carol always teases him for it.

He goes to the school play, and when Sophia starts dancing onstage with all the other forks he starts snickering to himself, and Carol swats his arm.

"Don't laugh, you dick."

"'M not _laughin_ ', just, singin' silverware's ridiculous, is all."

He can tell she's fighting back her own smirk, so he doesn't feel too bad about it, and when the lights flip on he asks, "Where do we meet her?"

Carol quirks her lips. "It's the intermission, Daryl."

"What?"

"We're only halfway finished."

Daryl slumps back in his chair, letting out the tiniest groan, and Carol swats his arm again. "It's a school play, Daryl. You knew what you signed up for."

"Now I understand why movies always have the guy moanin' and groanin' about takin' his girl to the opera or whatever dumb shit."

Carol rolls her eyes. "You are such a baby."

"She's doin' good, though. Knows all the dance moves and the words to the songs."

"Yes, she is."

"Kid in the bear costume sucks, though."

"It's a beast, as in _Beauty and the Beast_ , not a bear."

"Whatever, he sucks. Don't know half his lines."

"Yes, well, again, this is a school play. And quit talking so loudly, his parents might be nearby."

"Parents should know their kid sucks."

That finally gets a laugh from Carol that she can't suppress, and he's proud of himself as the lights flicker.

"Alright, Daryl, now shush, the show's going to start soon."

The play resumes, and after a hundred years or so, the lights come back on, and Daryl looks over at Carol. "This another intermission?"

"No, it's over. Now we can meet Sophia in the hallway."

They push through what feels like the entire population of Georgia crammed into a closet, rife with screaming kids and slamming doors, and Daryl's trying to calm down, he's trying, but Carol must see him almost losing it, and motions to the front door.

"Hey. Go stand outside, I'll find her and bring her to you, okay?"

He nods and bolts for it, sucking in a deep breath of the night air, and instantly feels like an asshole.

He should be congratulating her on what a good job she did, on how great the show was, on how all her hard work paid off, but instead he's out here acting like someone's trying to kill him, and he can't just fucking _deal_ with it like everyone else.

Then he notices some of the parents start to trickle out and their kids are holding flowers, and he curses himself for not thinking ahead, either.

There's a little fenced-in garden lining the parking lot, though, and there's a bunch of shit growing in there, but the Cherokee rose catches his eye and he yanks it out before he can think twice.

He rips off the roots and brushes off the dirt, hoping to make it look even the least bit presentable, and then Carol and Sophia walk out.

Sophia's face _lights up_ when she sees him, and his entire heart swells like a goddamn cheeseball, but he can't help it, and he gives her a huge hug.

"You kicked ass, Soph, real good."

"Thanks, Daryl."

He lets go and holds out the flower to her, and she beams at him.

He looks over at Carol, and her eyes are a little glassy, and he doesn't want to make her cry - he knows it's a good cry, but still, he never knows what to do when someone cries.

So instead he points at Sophia's face and asks, "You let Carl do your makeup or somethin'?"

Sophia rolls her eyes. " _No_ , Daryl, they have to do it like this so that you can see it onstage, _duh_."

He sticks his tongue out at her and she sticks her tongue out too, and then Carol says, "Alright, enough, let's get going."

They walk off towards the car, and Carol squeezes Daryl's hand, and mouths _thank_ _you_ , and he just smiles back.

\--

A week later, Lori and Rick are taking a couple of kids to the movies for Carl's birthday, Sophia included, and Carol and Daryl take advantage.

He cooks her dinner and bought chocolate cake for dessert, and before he knows it they're sitting on his couch making out like a couple of teenagers.

He pulls back and asks, a little breathless, "You sure?"

Carol nods, kissing down his neck. "Yeah, I mean, I'm ready. It feels right. You?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay," he says, and ducks his head down to kiss her again.

He's unbuttoning her pants when her phone rings, and she curses, leaning over him to pick it up.

"Hello?" Daryl can hear someone talking on the other end, but can't quite make out what they're saying, and then Carol says, "Yeah, okay, sounds good. See you soon," and hangs up.

Daryl can feel his face fall, and Carol groans. "Movie's over, Lori's dropping Sophia off soon."

"How soon?"

" _Soon_ soon, as in I should get going." She climbs off him and he hands her the shirt he'd yanked off her two minutes ago.

He doesn't bother pulling his shirt back on, just watches her get dressed, and she leans in to kiss him goodbye.

She starts to pull back and walk off, but he grasps her hand and just _looks_ at her.

She's so beautiful, hair all messy and cheeks pink and a little smile on her face, it almost hurts how beautiful she is, and he leans in and kisses her again, slow and sweet.

They break apart, and her smile grows wider, and he says, "I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah."

\--

Later that night, he gets a text from Carol:

_You still up?_

_Yeah._

Then she's calling, and when he answers, she whispers, "Have you ever had phone sex before?"

His face flames right up, and he mutters, "Uh - no."

"Do you want to?"

"Can't - never been good at talkin'."

"I'll do the talking if you want."

He swallows, and says, "Yeah, okay."

By the end of the night, he's officially had phone sex, and even if it was excruciatingly uncomfortable at the beginning, it ended up pretty well.

\--


	16. Chapter 16

Carol settles herself into her usual chair, and Jessie shuts the door behind her.

"So, it's good to see you again."

"Mhm."

"How have you been doing?"

"Pretty good, actually."

"Why's that?"

Carol shrugs. "You know, everything's working out. Sophia's having a fun summer, work is good, things with Daryl are going well, everything's good."

"Did you ever hear back from Andrea about that call?"

"No, there was nothing. I guess just a prank call or something."

Jessie nods. "Well, that's good."

"I've actually..." Carol takes a deep breath. "I've actually been thinking about telling people. About Daryl."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Who do you mean by 'people'?"

"Lori, if she doesn't already know, and Jacqui." Carol pauses, and adds, "Sophia."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Jessie's surprised, that much is obvious. "You're ready for that?"

Carol sighs. "I don't know. I just feel like... we've been seeing each other for a few months, now, even longer than before, and I just... I know Daryl wants people to know."

"That's not a good reason, though."

"No, I know, it's not even that. I'm just - people probably _should_ know, _Sophia_ should know. It's - ugh. I don't know."

"Try."

Carol drums her fingers on her knees, and blurts out. "I keep thinking that I'm going to jinx it. Like as soon as I admit it, everything's going to fall apart, and I'll have irreparably screwed up Sophia's relationship with him, because then she'll _know_ that we were together and broke up, and I really - you know, I care about him, and I don't want to go back to how it was."

"What would be jinxing it?"

"There'd be all this pressure! Like all of a sudden we're in this serious relationship and then I have to be the perfect - well, girlfriend, or partner, or whatever - and then what, we're supposed to move in together? We're supposed to get married? We're supposed to have another _kid_? I -" and she's starting to hyperventilate.

"Hey, hey. Take a breath. You know what you're supposed to do. Breathe."

Carol shuts her eyes and does her breathing, and soon she feels a little more grounded.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good. Can we discuss all of that?"

Carol nods.

"So I'm going to point out the obvious, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Telling your friends and your daughter that you're dating someone does not mean you have to move in together or get married or have children. It means you're dating someone. And that can mean whatever you want it to mean."

Carol snorts. "Yeah."

"And nobody's perfect at all times. The two of you will have rough patches, just like everyone else."

"Yeah, I know."

Jessie waits, and Carol gives in.

"I _know_ that, but it's just... hard to believe it, sometimes. That he could be different."

"You think he might pressure you into moving faster than you want?"

"No, no way. I mean, he's been seeing me as often as I want, and he's been keeping everything on the down-low like I asked. Except with Rick, but that was an accident."

"But... he's making all the decisions for you? Or guilting you into doing what he wants?"

Carol scoffs. "Please. No, I'm absolutely in control here."

Jessie purses her lips, and it takes Carol a second, but then she's rolling her eyes. "Yeah, okay, I get it."

Jessie smirks. "See? You're going to be just fine."

After their session ends, Carol's made up her mind, and texts Daryl when she gets home:

_Hey, I'm going to tell Sophia tonight_.

_:)_

_Dork._

_Need anything from me?_

_No, I'm good._

He really is a dork.

\--

Carol waits until Sophia's finished dinner, and when the last dish is cleaned she walks into the living room.

"Hey, turn off the TV for a moment, I want to talk to you about something. It's nothing bad, I promise," she adds hastily at the look on Sophia's face.

Sophia turns it off and draws her legs up to her chest. "What?"

Carol sits down next to her and places her hand on Sophia's knee. "Well, honey, I... ahem. I wanted to tell you that I've been seeing someone."

"What, like dating?"

"Yeah, like dating."

Sophia doesn't seem too affected one way or another - just blankly looking at Carol.

Carol raises an eyebrow. "Is that - are you okay with that?"

Sophia shrugs. "Yeah, I guess." And she frowns, like the thought is just occurring to her. "Is he nice?"

"Yeah, he's very nice. He's - actually, well. He's Daryl." And Carol immediately wants to roll her eyes at herself. There were about a hundred different ways she could have said that.

But it doesn't matter, because although Sophia looks shocked as hell, there's a hint of a smile on her face too.

" _Daryl_? _Daryl_ 's your boyfriend?"

Carol winces - that sounds so childish - but nods. "Yeah. Are you okay with that?"

Sophia smiles, a _real_ smile, bright and happy. "Yeah. I like him a lot."

"Me too."

"Does this mean that I'm gonna live with him again?"

_Fuck_.

Carol knows that's not what Sophia meant by it, but it still fucking _hurts_ to hear that hopeful note in her voice.

But she swallows it back and clears her throat. "No, no. It just means that sometimes I'm spending time with him by myself."

Sophia shrugs. "Okay, then."

"So it's okay?"

Sophia surprises her with a hug, and says, "I just want you to be happy, Mom."

Carol blinks back the prickling in her eyes, and presses a kiss to Sophia's head. "I want you to be happy too, baby. But thank you."

They sit on the couch for another minute or so, and Sophia asks to turn on the television again, and Carol's surprised at how normal it all is.

That night she texts Daryl:

_Just letting you know, it went well._

_Knew it would._

_Sleepover tomorrow still?_

_Yup!_

_Okay. Night._

_Night._

\--

Daryl's gotten markedly less anxious whenever Carol and Sophia are coming over - he hasn't stress-cleaned the kitchen in ages - but today, for some reason, it's back in full force.

Not for some reason; he knows why, it's because he doesn't want Sophia to find him unworthy of Carol, even though that's a ridiculous thing to think, but it's still a whisper in the back of his mind.

So he's in the middle of changing his shirt for the third time when there's a knock at the door, and he curses as he descends the stairs and lets them in.

As usual, Sophia runs in and gives him a hug, and as usual, Daryl and Carol exchange _hello_ s, but this time, Sophia takes it upon herself to roll her eyes and say, "You guys can _kiss_ , you know," and Carol narrows her eyes at her.

"Hey. Go make yourself useful somewhere."

Sophia rolls her eyes, but points at Daryl's quickly-reddening cheeks with a smirk, and beelines to the kitchen.

Carol turns back to Daryl and quirks her lips at him. "Hi."

"Hi." He gestures to the kitchen and says, "Guess really did go well."

"Guess so."

"You stayin' for dinner?"

"Yeah, if that's okay."

He grins. "Sure it is."

\--

After dinner, Carol hugs Sophia goodbye, and then she and Daryl are deciding between cards or board games.

Sophia chooses _Sorry!_ and sets up the pieces, and within ten minutes she's gotten one of her pieces in the safe zone and sent two of his back to home.

"How the hell you so good at these games? Ain't it all just chance?"

She shrugs. "Guess you've got bad luck."

"Guess so."

He picks up a card and moves a few squares, and says, "Y'know, if you wanna talk 'bout me and your mom, we can."

Sophia looks at him with one of those expressions that's far, far too old for a girl her age to wear.

"You'll be nice to her, right?"

"'Course."

"And you'll be nice to me?"

"Always."

Sophia shrugs again. "Then... that's all there is."

He searches her face for a moment, but to her, it really does seem that simple. If he's not Ed, he's good, and while it's good that he's _not_ Ed, he's worried about the incredibly low bar that sets for her.

He doesn't know how to start that conversation, or if that's even a conversation that he needs to be involved in, but either way, he'll make sure she knows how to love. How to _be_ loved.

She nudges his leg with her foot. "Your turn."

\--

A few weeks later, Daryl's back in Aaron's office, jiggling his leg, and Aaron raises his eyebrow. "Are you nervous about something?"

Daryl shakes his head. "Nah. Just. Antsy, I guess."

"About what?"

A beat passes, and Daryl stares down at the carpet, pushing his palm onto his knee to slow the jiggling. It doesn't really work. "Merle."

"What about Merle?"

"Left me a message askin' to come see him."

Aaron doesn't respond to that, and Daryl lifts up his head.

"Ain't you gonna say somethin'?"

"Like what?"

"Like, do I wanna see him or somethin'."

"Do you?"

Daryl glares at him. "I dunno."

"And he didn't say what it was about?"

"No. Just left a message askin' me to come up this weekend."

"Do you want to do pros-and-cons?"

Daryl shrugs. "Dunno. Don't help that I don't know _why_. Makes me scared that he's sick, or somethin'. _Or_ maybe he didn't say nothin' so that I'd come, _thinkin'_ it was somethin' big. But if it was nothin' big, he coulda just called again, right?"

"Yeah, maybe. Or maybe he just misses you. When was the last time you saw him?"

A long, long time ago.

When Merle first got locked up, Daryl sent money every week, without fail. They even made a few scheduled visits, but as time went on, it was more and more often that Daryl drove up, waited by himself for an hour, and was told to come back next week.

Merle's excuses were always that the COs wouldn't let him visit to get their rocks off, or he was unfairly thrown into solitary for defending himself in a fight, or on one hilariously unrealistic occasion, that Merle was busy attending an NA meeting that ran longer than usual.

Daryl eventually gave up - spending six hours every Saturday doing absolute jack-shit but driving around and sitting on his ass was a complete waste of time, and after Merle ditched him four times in a row he figured that either he was busy getting high or he was busy being stupid. So the next time Merle had called, Daryl refused to come see him.

_"Hey, little brother."_

_"Hey, Merle."_

_"So, look, I ain't got the commissary money yet. All outta toothpaste and Tweaker ain't sharin' no more, greedy little fucker."_

_"Yeah, not happenin' this week. Tree fell through a window, can't spare the cash."_

_"Like you could afford it anyhow."_

_"Sorry, bro."_

_"Whatever. Can you bring somethin' when you come by this weekend?"_

_"No, Merle, I'm not comin'."_

_"Why the fuck not?"_

_"'Cause I got better shit to do than sit around on my ass all day waitin' on you when you ain't even gonna show!"_

_"You fuckin' kiddin' me?"_

_"Nope."_

_"Your buddy Rick tellin' you to do this? First he puts me in jail and then he cuts me off?"_

_"You put yourself in jail, dumbass. Rick's got nothin' to do with this. I'm just done."_

_"Fine. Been on my own my whole life anyhow. Don't need shit from any of y'all."_

He'd hung up, and from that point on, Daryl sent commissary money once a month or so, Merle called a couple times a year, and they never bothered with visiting hours again.

"Not since he first got locked up."

"And he hasn't called since the last time we talked about, right?"

"Yeah."

Aaron leans forward. "You seem like you feel a little guilty about that."

"He's my brother!"

"Of course he is, but that doesn't mean you need to do everything that he wants."

Daryl considers this, and says, "I know. But... I got this feelin' like if I don't see him, maybe this'll be the last chance I get, or somethin'. Don't wanna fuck it up. Rather do it and regret it than _not_ do it and regret it."

Aaron nods. "Fair enough."

\--

After his session, he texts Carol:

_Gonna do it._

_See Merle?_

_Yeah._

_Need anything from me?_

_Nah, all good._

\--

Saturday rolls around, and Daryl drives up to the prison on a long, familiar route, and he's surprised to hear that he can be taken back almost immediately after signing in.

He steels himself and walks through the doors, and Merle's sitting at the table waiting for him.

He's even more surprised to see a smile on his face.

He takes a seat, and Merle says, "Why hello, baby brother. Long time no see."

"Yeah."

"Didn't think you was gonna show."

"Almost didn't."

Merle _hmm_ s at that, and doesn't say anything else.

After another few moments of silence, Daryl raises his eyebrow. "So... you gonna tell me what's goin' on?"

"Can't a man just say hi?"

"Can't say hi with a phone call?"

"Why the hell you bein' so hostile?"

" _Cause_ , Merle, you been icin' me out for _months_ now, and all'a sudden you wanna _see_ me? You sick or somethin'?"

"Nothin' like that."

"Then _what_?"

Merle purses his lips, and says, "Got clean."

Among all the things Daryl imagined he'd say, that was never one of them. "Clean?"

"Yeah. Off it. Doin' all the dumbass NA bible shit. Makin' amends."

Daryl's speechless. "You fuckin' with me?"

"Nope." To Merle's credit, he doesn't take offense at that, and Daryl can hardly believe it.

"How long?"

"Two months now. Got my chip and everythin'." He flashes it, and Daryl stares.

"Why now?"

Merle shrugs. "Gettin' out soon. Tryin' for good behavior."

Daryl scoffs. "You got eight months 'til you eligible for parole, don't gimme that bullshit."

"'S _true_. Fuckin' _T_ _weaker_ 's gettin' out soon, lawyer told him he got a good chance."

"Dude sellin' meth is good behavior?"

"He ain't never been caught. Been doin' NA shit the whole time."

"What, you ain't gonna fake it too?"

Merle shrugs, drums his fingers on the table. "Ain't never been too good at fakin' it." He looks around, anywhere but at Daryl, and adds, "Figured it was time. Last talk we had..."

Daryl knows he'll never get a real apology - Merle's still too proud for that, no matter how out of character this change of heart is for him. And no way in hell will he _ever_ get any apology, any _acknowledgement_ , even, for the way Daryl had to grow up, but still. There's something gratifying about this.

Daryl chews on his lip for a bit, and says, "Little girl took your room."

"You into little girls now?"

"Shut the fuck up. No. I, uh. Was takin' care of her for a while. While her momma was dealin' with court bullshit."

Merle's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. " _What_?"

Daryl shifts in his seat, uncomfortable as all hell. "Yeah."

"What, you some type of CPS bitch now?"

"Ain't nobody's _bitch_ , Merle. Just did the right thing."

He can tell how the emphasis on his words hits Merle, and he slumps back into his chair.

"So, what, you her daddy now or some shit?"

"No, she's back with her momma. But she still comes over a lot. Stays the night. Misses me."

"And she's stayin' in my room? Ain't fit for a little girl."

"Yeah, dumbass, got rid of all your shit. Ain't gonna let a kid see your porn and fucked-up bed frame and shit."

Merle purses his lips again. "This some real shit, huh?"

"Yup."

"Alright, well. I get it."

That... didn't take nearly as long as Daryl expected. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They lapse into silence, and Daryl can't really believe how this conversation went. He's never been a man of many words, but rarely has he been left _speechless_ like this, just at a total loss for words.

"So... what else is goin' on?"

"We makin' small talk now?"

Merle spreads his arms. "Just tryin' to give a shit, damn."

"Alright, well, I dunno. Work's good. Kid's good." Daryl hesitates for a moment, and says, "Got... seein' someone."

"Ooh hoo hoo, baby brother got hisself a little girlfriend, huh? Ain't _never_ thought I'd see the day."

"Shut the fuck up."

Merle tries and fails to bite back his smirk, but sounds completely sincere when he asks, "So... how long?"

Daryl shrugs. "A while now."

"She got a name?"

"Carol."

"Aw, Carol and Daryl. Like schoolyard lovebirds."

"Shut up."

"How'd you meet her?"

Daryl should have known he'd ask, but it's still irritating. "Don't matter."

Merle snickers. "What, this some kind of _Pretty Woman_ shit?"

Daryl glares at him. "No, fuck off." He hesitates for a moment, and reluctantly mumbles, "Met her when I was takin' care of the kid."

He immediately regrets it - he can _see_ the wheels turning in Merle's head, and Merle says, "Don't tell me she the momma."

Daryl's cheeks burn, and he stares at the table, picking at his cuticles, and Merle starts cackling in disbelief. "Hoo _wee_ , little brother, that's seven kinds of fucked up!"

"Shut _up_ , Merle."

"So, what, y'all gettin' married or some shit? You gonna be a daddy now?"

" _No_ , not... no, just, y'know. Been... whatever. No."

They fall silent for a moment, Merle still snickering, but eventually it dies off and he asks, "You really like this girl, huh?"

Daryl shrugs. "No point in stickin' around otherwise."

Merle hesitates, and asks, "Well... she gonna come by or what?"

What the fuck is going on with Merle? "You _want_ her to?"

"Figure I should meet the missus, you like her so damn much," he says, shrugging.

Daryl's taken aback - this entire exchange has been one shock after the other, and he can't quite believe this is happening. He blinks, and says, "Dunno if that's a good idea."

"Alright, well, shit, forget it. Don't matter," but Daryl can actually _see_ the flash of hurt on Merle's face.

So he drums his fingers on the table, and mutters, "Fine, then. I can ask. Dunno if she's gonna."

Merle purses his lips and nods, and doesn't say anything else.

"So... you really clean now, huh?"

"Yep."

"Well, good. That's good, man." Daryl can't quite say it - he's _proud_ of Merle, just a little bit, which is something that he'd never in a million years thought was possible - but he thinks Merle gets it, judging by the small smile on his face.

"Gettin' my ass right, is all."

"Yeah."

The guards announce that time is up, and Merle says, "You can come back again, y'know. If you want."

Daryl's still a little wary. "You gonna blow me off again if I do?"

"No." And Daryl can tell he means it. Actually _wants_ to mean it.

Whether he'll keep to it or not is a different story, but if this is what it takes to start over... "Lemme think 'bout it."

Merle nods, and without another word Daryl's escorted out.

The entire drive back he's replaying the visit in his head, still in disbelief, and when Daryl gets home he texts Rick.

_Grab a beer?_

A few minutes later, Rick replies.

_Yeah. Tonight? Lori's taking Carl to her mother's for dinner.  
_

_Sounds good._

\--

They're at the bar, and Daryl's picking at the label on his beer when Rick walks in and sits next to him.

He orders a beer for himself, and turns to Daryl. "So what's up?"

Daryl chews on his lips for a moment, and says, "Saw Merle today."

He isn't looking at Rick, but he can tell his jaw's dropping. " _What_?"

Daryl nods.

A moment passes, and Rick says, " _Why_?"

"Asked me to."

" _He_ asked?"

"Yeah."

" _Why_?"

Daryl shrugs. "Says he's clean. Wanted to make amends."

He ventures a glance at Rick, and there's shock plain on his face, he was right - Rick's mouth is hanging open.

"Quit gapin', gonna catch a fly like that."

"Shut up." Rick pauses for a moment, and asks, "So... how'd it go?"

"Good, actually. Better'n I thought."

Rick just nods, and Daryl adds, "Told him 'bout Sophia. And Carol."

Rick snorts. "Bet he had plenty to say about that."

"He sure did."

They fall into silence for a few moments, and Rick cautiously asks, "You believe him?"

"Believe he's clean?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I guess, Seemed like it." Daryl clears his throat, and says, "Even apologized. In his own way."

Rick scoffs. " _In his own way_ doesn't exactly sound like an apology."

"You don't know him like that, man. Believe me. He _did_."

"Alright, alright. If you say so."

Daryl picks at the label for another moment, and says, "Asked to meet Carol."

" _What_?"

"Yep."

" _Why_?"

"' _Cause_ , man, seems like he's startin' to give a shit, I dunno."

Rick's absolutely flabbergasted. "And you _believe_ him?"

"Will you stop?" Daryl's actually surprised at how irritated he is. Merle's a shithead, sure, anyone with a brain can see that, but the entire visit was so wildly different than any other interaction the two of them have ever had, and he could actually _feel_ the dynamic shifting in the air. It unsettled him, and he's _never_ unsettled around Merle - not like that, at least, and his gut was screaming at him that it was real.

"Sorry, I just... I don't know, brother. I don't want you to get your hopes up."

"I know. Don't want to either."

Rick takes a sip of his drink, and taps his thumb against the bar. "Do you want her to?"

"I guess, yeah. If she wants."

"Does she know everything?"

"Not really. Don't really talk 'bout him. Mostly just knows whatever you told her."

"Wasn't much."

"Well, okay then."

They sit in silence for a while, and Daryl thinks about it.

He cares about Carol, in a different way he's cared about anyone else, and he wants it to be _real_. He's all in, he's a fool if he tells himself otherwise, but he doesn't know what that means. What that really looks like.

He supposes it looks like Rick and Lori, sort of, and he knows that he and Carol probably won't ever get married - might not ever move in together, even - but he's known the two of them for ages now, and it's really the only model of a healthy, real relationship he's ever seen.

So Daryl asks, "Would you have wanted Lori to meet him? If it were you?"

Rick thinks about that for a moment. "Yeah, I think so. He's in your life, for better or for worse, and so's Carol. Right?"

"Yeah."

"Then... yeah, I think so. It's not going to change the way she feels about you. She should at least get the option."

Daryl nods thoughtfully, and Rick adds, "I'd wait on Sophia, though."

Daryl snorts. "Yeah, no fuckin' way that's happenin'."

"Does she know about Merle?"

"Hope not. Prob'ly scare the shit outta her."

"Yeah, maybe."

Daryl finishes his beer, and says, "Thanks, man."

"Anytime, brother."

\--

That evening, Carol gets a call from Daryl.

"Hey there!"

"Hey, this an okay time?"

"Yeah, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just. Wanted to talk 'bout Merle."

Carol shifts her phone into her other hand and slips a placeholder into her book. "How'd it go?"

"Alright. Weird, actually. Well - how much do you know?"

"Know about Merle? Uh, not a lot, I guess."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that."

"It's okay." Carol's hardly going to hold it against him - she's barely talked about Ed, and she assumes that Daryl knows what he knows from court and whatever Rick and Lori told him, which can't be too much.

"So he's - he's been locked up for a long while now, some serious shit - not murder or nothin' like that, just, y'know, not good. Been hooked on whatever he could find since he was a kid. Anyway, told me he's clean now and shit, wants to keep seein' me." He takes a breath, and adds, "Wants to meet you."

"You told him about me?"

"Yeah - I mean, was I not s'posed to?"

"No, no, that's fine, I'm just surprised, that's all."

Daryl pauses for a moment, and asks, "I'm okay with it, if you are. Meetin' him, I mean."

"I'd be meeting him now, right? Like in prison? Not waiting until after he gets out?"

"Pfft. Yeah. He's eligible for parole in a couple months, and I dunno if he'll even get it. Been denied a few times already. Real asshole in the pen. Asshole outside, too."

Carol chuckles, and considers it. "Yeah, okay. If you're okay with it, I can."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He's your brother. I don't - if you want to have him in your life, I should know him, right?"

"Yeah, prob'ly."

"I don't want Sophia meeting him, though. She doesn't know about him. I'd like to keep it that way, at least for a while."

"Fuckin' _yeah_ , Christ. Way back when, she asked why I got a second bedroom, I told her I got a brother but he ain't around."

Carol wrinkles her brow. "Did you tell her why?"

"Fuck no. She asked and I just said I don't like talkin' 'bout him. Ain't brought it up since."

There's the small, familiar flame of resentment and regret in her gut - it's hard enough remembering the days when Sophia was gone, but the reminder that there's plenty she'll never know about her baby growing up stings.

Jessie's told her it's natural to feel like that, to hate missing the important moments, and even to have mixed feelings about it with Daryl, but that it's important that she _communicate_ it with him, be _vulnerable_ and _talk_ and do all the shit she's not really ready to do yet.

So she doesn't, and instead says, "So when should I meet him?"

"He asked me to come up next weekend again. Prob'ly will. But I wanna make sure he's serious. If he don't show up, ain't no point in bringin' you by."

"Yeah, okay."

There's silence on the other end, and Carol gently asks, "You're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, just... weird. I dunno. Lotta shit with him. Tough to talk 'bout."

"That's okay."

"Maybe later."

"Whenever. It's - I get it. Believe me."

He does, she knows, but she can hear the relief in his voice. "Yeah, I do."

A beat passes, and he says quietly, "Thanks, though."

"Of course."

It's quiet for a moment, and Carol gets the sense that he's working up to say something, so she waits.

Eventually, he mumbles, "Alright, well. Night, then."

She can hear in his voice that that's not what he _wanted_ to say, but she's not going to press it. "Night."


	17. Chapter 17

Carol figures she's been putting it off long enough, so she calls Jacqui the next morning.

"Hey, you!"

"Hi! You free for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, but only a few, I'm heading out to breakfast with some friends. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just wanted to tell you something. Good news." Carol takes a breath, and says, "I'm, uh. Seeing Daryl again."

Jacqui pauses, and asks, "What does that mean?"

"Like, for real this time. Really real. I told Sophia."

"Oh, _shit_ , yes! Oh my god!"

The excitement is clear in her voice, and Carol smiles. "Yeah."

"How long?"

"A few months. I didn't really want to tell anyone for a while. See where it went."

"Yeah, okay. I get it. It's going good?"

"Yeah. Really good."

Jacqui hesitates for a moment, and gently asks, "He's good to you, right?"

"Yeah. He's - yeah. Really good."

"Aw, _good_ , Carol, I'm so happy for you. That's great. I -" and Carol can hear a faint horn in the background. "Shit. That's my ride, I gotta go."

"Oh, yeah, no problem, go ahead. Just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks, babe. I'll talk to you soon, okay? I want the details."

"Ugh. Yeah. Have fun!"

They hang up, and just as Carol's wondering if she should call Lori, Lori calls her.

"Hello?"

"Hey, honey, I just wanted to ask - that the new sofa came today, and the furniture guys just dumped it on the front porch and left. I called the company and they basically told me too bad, which is a load of bull, but it's too heavy for me to move inside and Rick's at work until six. Would you hate me if I asked you to help me bring it in?"

"Yeah, no problem. I just have to leave for work at eleven, so I can't stay long."

"Oh, thank you, you are a _lifesaver_."

"See you soon!"

Carol arrives at Lori's house, and true to her word, the sofa is literally inches away from the front door.

Lori opens it, and as Carol approaches, she says, "Can you believe this? I'm so pissed off, I'm never buying from them again. I've already left a strongly-worded review on Yelp."

Carl smirks. "Yeah, you tell 'em. Ready?"

Lori grasps one end, Carol picks up the other - she's right, it's heavy as hell - and they pull it into the hallway.

"Carol, I can't - _shit_ ," Lori gasps out, and drops it with a _thunk_.

"You weakling."

"Ugh, stop it."

"What the hell is this thing made of, anyway? Cinderblocks?"

"Rick _insisted_ on four cushions, I can't for the life of me figure out why, but he's the one paying for it, so whatever."

"Don't you need to get it to the living room?"

Lori rolls her eyes. "No way. Rick can put it on sliders and deal with it, it's all one level. He can always ask Daryl for help if he needs." They make their way into the kitchen, and Lori gestures to a veggie plate she's put out. Ever the good hostess.

Carol quirks her lips. "Speaking of Daryl..."

Lori raises her eyebrow. "What?"

"He's - we've been seeing each other again."

"That a good idea?" Lori slips a cucumber slice into her mouth, and Carol smiles.

"Yeah, it's been going good. Been a few months now. I, uh. I actually told Sophia."

Lori's eyebrows shoot up. "Really."

"Yep."

"How'd she take it?"

"Pretty well, actually. She didn't seem all that fazed by it." Carol munches on a carrot slice, and says, "Better than I thought."

They're quiet for a moment, and Lori asks, "It's good, right?"

"Yeah. Really good."

"Then... good." Lori pats her hand. "If you're happy, I'm happy."

Carol smiles wider. "Yeah. I'm happy."

As she drives to work, she thinks about it - she's glad, actually, that people know now. It's scary, but it feels more real. Feels like it's _her_ choice to make it real.

Feels like it's a good choice.

\--

Soon enough, next Saturday rolls around, and Daryl makes his way up to the prison.

Once again, Merle's right on time, and seems genuinely happy. "Glad to see you again, baby brother. Wasn't sure you was gonna make it."

"Yeah, well, you keep callin' while I'm at work. Can't exactly call you back."

Merle cranes his neck around. "Where's your woman?"

"Ain't my _woman_ , Merle. Didn't wanna bring her by 'til I knew you meant it."

Merle frowns. "I'm here, ain't I?"

"Yeah, yeah," Daryl huffs, and leans forward. "Wanna set some ground rules, too, 'fore you meet her."

"The hell does that mean?"

"It _means_ you gotta act right."

"She gotta accept me for who I _am_ , little brother," Merle says, sounding offended.

"Actually, no, she don't, Merle."

Merle crosses his arms. "So, what, I gotta be all proper'n shit?"

Please. Daryl could put a tuxedo on a lion before Merle acted _proper_. "No, dumbass. Just means you can't do that whole piss-her-off-'cause-you-think-it's-funny shit you do. Can't ask 'bout her court shit, can't hit on her, can't talk 'bout Dad, can't brag 'bout beatin' the shit outta whoever looks at you wrong, can't act all high and mighty if she gives you shit."

"Why the fuck she gonna give me shit? Bitch don't even _know_ me."

Daryl slams his palm on the table. " _Hey!_ " The guards look over, but he doesn't take his eyes off Merle.

"Sorry, sorry. _She_ don't even know me."

"No, she don't, which is _why_ you gotta act right. Ain't gonna stop her from callin' you out if you pull some shit."

Merle scoffs and rolls his eyes. "You always gotta assume the worst, don't you?"

"Yeah, Merle, I do. Ain't never gave me a reason not to."

They glower at each other, and for a moment Daryl thinks Merle's going to walk out, but instead he stays put and crosses his arms. "Alright, fine. I get it. I'll play nice."

Daryl squints at him, but Merle looks sincere, so he just crosses his arms too. "Good. Then I can bring her next time."

"Yeah, okay."

Daryl leans forward, and says, "You got one chance, here. You fuck up, that's it. Got it?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

Daryl rolls his eyes, and the guard announces visiting hours are over.

Merle glares at him, and calls, "Why the fuck you cuttin' this shit short? Got another ten minutes here!"

The guard glares back. "Don't start, Dixon, just get your ass up and move."

Daryl shoots a warning glance at Merle, but Merle relents. "Me, Pancamo? Never," he says, sarcasm dripping from his words, and for a moment Daryl thinks that's it, good behavior gone to shit, but the guard just snorts.

"Shut the hell up and follow Jackson. Warden's got some higher-up comin' in and he don't wanna deal with corralling y'all."

"Alright, alright." As he stands up, he jerks his chin at Daryl. "Next weekend you gonna bring her?"

"Yeah, so long as you don't cause no trouble."

Daryl's escorted out of the room, and as he leaves he catches a glimpse of Merle out of the corner of his eye, and he's got a small smile on his face.

Good.

\--

Next Saturday, Carol's dropped Sophia off at Lori's, gotten Maggie to cover the farmer's market, and she's flipping through a magazine when Daryl calls.

"Hey, you're downstairs?"

"Yep."

"Coming down now."

She heads out and hops in the car, kissing Daryl on the cheek. "Ready?"

He snorts. "Are _you_?"

"Please," she says, rolling her eyes. "You're acting like I'm walking the plank."

"Might as well be," he mutters, but he turns on the radio and they make the drive up.

They park, sign in, and take a seat in the waiting room. "You ever been to prison?"

Carol raises an eyebrow. "I'm assuming you mean as a visitor, not a prisoner, but no to both."

"Looks a lot scarier than it is. Ain't in any danger, guards'll shut that shit down 'fore it starts."

Carol pats his arm. "Calm down, Daryl. I'm not expecting anyone to jump me here. It's _fine_."

They're escorted in, and immediately, Carol knows which person is Merle.

It's not the resemblance, exactly - they're further apart in age than she'd expected, and they don't have many similar features, but there's a certain look on his face when they walk in.

It's hard to define, but it's a _good_ look, and Carol feels Daryl tense next to her.

She squeezes his hand, and he leads her over to the table, and Merle stands up.

"Pleased to meet you," he drawls, and he actually kisses her hand.

Daryl scowls. "Knock that shit off, dumbass."

"Tellin' me to act all proper'n shit, gonna _act_ all proper'n shit, damn."

Carol rolls her eyes and takes a seat, and after a moment's hesitation, the two of them do, too.

"So," Merle says. "You actually real, huh?"

" _Merle_..."

Carol smirks. "Yes, I'm real. In the flesh."

"Don't take offense, darlin'. Daryl just ain't never had too much luck with the ladies."

"Shut the fuck up, Merle."

Carol nudges Daryl with her elbow, and he unclenches his fists and drops them to his lap.

Merle smirks. "You got him wrapped around your finger, huh?"

Before Daryl can snap at him, Carol says, "Maybe just a little."

"Aw, that's okay. He's always been the sweet one. Ain't no surprise to me. He treatin' you good?"

Carol looks at Daryl, and his cheeks are a little pink. "Yeah, real good," she says softly, and his cheeks turn pinker.

"Good." Merle gives her an appraising glance, and says, "You a damn sight prettier'n I expected."

"Merle, the fuck did I say?"

"What, I can't be nice now?"

"Anyway," Carol interrupts, "Daryl tells me you're getting sober."

Merle turns his attention back to her and sighs. "Yeah, walkin' the straight'n narrow." He flashes his chip at her, and adds, "Borin' as shit now."

"Well, it's something to be proud of."

Merle's face softens, just a bit, and says, "'Bout time, anyhow."

Daryl nods, and there's an awkward silence.

Merle clears his throat. "So, Daryl says you got a little girl."

Carol smiles. "Yes, her name's Sophia. She's nine."

"Bet she's a good kid."

"Yeah," Carol says, and realizes Daryl said it too.

Something inside her warms at that.

Merle continues, "You workin' or you stayin' at home?"

"I work, there's a farm not too far from my place. I handle the farmer's markets and coordinating with the grocery stores and everything."

"Interestin'. Never thought 'bout that as a job."

"Do you work here?"

"Yeah, doin' electrical shit. Makin' lamps right now. Think they sellin' to some crunchy place all hopped up on 'rehabilitation' and 'prisoner's rights' and shit, but I'm only gettin' two bucks an hour, so ain't buyin' none of that."

Carol nods, and out of the corner of her eye Daryl looks surprised.

"Didn't know you were workin'."

"You ain't never asked."

Another awkward silence falls, and Carol tries again. "So what else are you doing? Reading, exercising, anything like that?"

"Pfft, ain't much else to do 'sides that. Read more here than I ever read in my life. Doin' some Bible study classes and shit too," Merle says.

"What the fuck?" Daryl says under his breath.

Merle continues. "Borin' as shit, but sittin' in my cell starin' at the ceilin' got real old real fast, so. Somethin' to do."

Carol smiles. "Whatever passes the time."

"Yup."

"My daughter, Sophia, she's filling up her schedule, too. Seems like she's got some hobby or another every waking moment."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, it's good for her. She was in a play back in June, actually. You know _Beauty and the_ _Beast_?"

"That the one where the bear's in the castle and some hot pus- uh, lady sings and shit?"

"What the _fuck_?" Daryl mutters again.

Carol smirks. "That's the one, yeah."

"She the main girl?"

"No, she was part of an angry mob and a dancing fork."

"Real actress you got there."

"Destined for Broadway," she says, and Merle snorts, and Daryl relaxes next to her.

The rest of the hour passes by more quickly than she'd imagined - Daryl talks about the garage and the classic car he's been restoring for Dale, and Merle talks about his new cellmate and his sponsor, and Carol talks about the horse-centric sleepaway camp that Sophia's going to next week, and when Daryl and Carol get into the car, Daryl's agitating.

Carol lays a hand on his arm, and says, "Hey. It went well. I like him." She smirks, and adds, "I can see why he pisses you off so much, though."

Daryl snorts. "Yeah, that's one word for it."

Carol says softly, "It seems like he's really trying."

Daryl looks at her for a moment, an inscrutable expression on his face, and he leans in and kisses her, sweet and soft and Carol's a little sad for him.

They've got a complicated relationship, that much is clear - even if Carol hadn't met him, it's obvious.

Carol's seen the scars on Daryl's chest before, and she's felt the ones on his back - deeper and larger and more violent, and combined with the few comments Daryl's made about his upbringing, she can only imagine that Merle experienced something similar.

He's so much older than Daryl, and clearly took a different path in life, and Carol wonders if Daryl holds Merle responsible for the abuse, just a little. Or if Merle had a hand in any of it.

She's sure as hell never going to ask, though, the same way that she knows Daryl won't ever ask about what happened with Ed. She doesn't know if she'll ever be able to talk about it with him, any of the more horrific things he did to her, and it doesn't really bother her. He knows the gist of it, and that's what matters.

She doesn't need the details about Daryl, either, not if he doesn't want to share them, and there's a little pang in her heart thinking about it.

He presses his forehead against hers, eyes closed, and murmurs, "Thank you."

She lays a hand on his cheek, kisses him again, and they stay like that for a moment before Daryl pulls away and begins the drive home.

\--

The morning that Carol drops Sophia off at the camp, she's hit with an overwhelming urge to scoop her up and run away.

It's silly - Sophia _needs_ to have fun, do what makes her happy, and make some new friends along the way, and she's been so excited about it ever since they signed up, but it's still so hard for Carol. The sleepovers at Daryl's have gotten easier of the years, and some nights she's even enjoyed having time to herself, but an entire week of not seeing Sophia, not talking to her, not knowing what she's doing or if she's having fun or if she's scared or lonely brings her right back to those awful days.

Carol signs them in and retrieves her duffel from the car, and bends down to get eye-level with Sophia. She smooths her hand over her hair, and says, "It's gonna be great, honey, I know it is."

Sophia's a little teary, but she nods, and says, "I'm gonna miss you. I feel like I miss you already."

Carol can feel her eyes grow watery, too, but she blinks them back, and says, "I know, baby. Me too. But it'll be over before you know it, and as soon as you get home you'll wish you were still here."

Sophia sniffles and gives her a hug, and Carol kisses her on the forehead, and when they pull apart she taps Sophia's cheek. "Now hurry over to your group, it looks like a few girls are there already. Go say hi. And I'll see you in a week, okay?"

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you too, baby. So, so much."

And with that, Sophia picks up her duffel and heads over to her group, and Carol drives away.

When she's a few minutes out from the stables, she pulls over and gives herself a few minutes to cry. She and Jessie prepared for this, and it's going to be fine. It's going to be _fine_ , and Carol's allowed to feel sad, but she shouldn't dwell on it, and instead she should look forward to going out with Daryl.

Luckily, Carol can head straight to work, and afterwards, she spends the afternoon at the library, just reading and aimlessly surfing the internet until it's time to pick up Daryl for the movie.

\--

They eat a late dinner at a nearby Chinese place afterwards, making fun of the cheesy special effects and terrible dialogue, and as they're walking to their cars she's hit with a sudden impulse.

She turns around and asks, "Come home with me?"

The shock on his face is evident - he's never stepped foot inside her apartment, and he's never pushed it before, but she can't bear the thought of going home to an empty house tonight.

He seems to get it, though, and nods, and the entire drive home to her apartment is a tense, silent ride.

She pulls into her spot and hesitates, and he says, "You don't gotta, y'know. If you don't - 's fine if you changed your mind, ain't gonna hurt my feelin's or nothin'."

Carol blows out a shaky breath. "No, no. I want to. C'mon."

She leads the way, and when she shuts her door behind him, he's got an awkward smile as he looks around.

"Nice place."

She scoffs, and he says, "No, I really mean it. Got nice decorations and everythin'. Can tell you live here. Sophia, too."

She flashes him a small smile and gestures to the fridge. "You want something to drink?"

He shrugs. "Water's fine, yeah."

She fills a glass, and they stand there awkwardly, not really knowing what to say, until he snorts.

"What?"

"Just, y'know. Stupid of us to be all weird 'bout it. I get why this is a big deal, don't get me wrong, just. I dunno. Don't gotta act all awkward."

She chuckles. "Yeah, probably."

He flops himself down on the sofa and gestures for her to sit next to him, so she does, and he turns on the television. "Wanna watch somethin'?"

"Sure, okay."

They flip through the channels until he sees the stupid zombie show she's been watching, and says, "Oh, this is a good episode."

"You've been watching this?"

"Yeah. 'S kinda dumb, bunch of people ain't never heard of zombies somehow, but I dunno."

She smiles. "Yeah, I've seen it too. I've actually always thought you've looked like one of the main guys."

"Hope he ain't the old dude."

Carol rolls her eyes. "No. The one with the crossbow. He just reminds me of you."

He smiles at her, and she's got the urge to kiss him, so she does.

Then they're rolling around on her sofa, starting up again, and as he's kissing down her neck she gasps, "Let's go to bed."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He pushes himself off her and she tugs him into the room, and he shuts the door by pressing her up against it.

He grinds himself into her, sucking on her earlobe, and she's suddenly reminded of that first time.

She chuckles, and he pulls back. "Somethin' funny?"

"No, I'm just - I don't know, I just thought of our first time, up against the wall of your house, for some reason."

He smirks. "I think about that a lot."

She rolls her eyes. "Shut up," she says, and she pulls him back in.

True enough, they end up fucking against her bedroom door, and they stumble into bed together, breathing heavy.

She flops down on her back, trying to get ahold of her heart rate, and turns to look at him.

He looks back at her and smiles, and she smiles back.

"That was pretty good," she says, and he squeezes her hand.

"Yeah."

A few minutes pass as they come down, and he says, "If I stay in this bed any longer, I'm gonna fall asleep," and moves to get dressed.

But she catches his arm and finds herself saying, "Stay over?"

He furrows his brow at her, probably waiting for her to change her mind, but she doesn't.

They've never spent the night together - never slept in the same bed and woken up next to each other, and she figures he assumes it's because she's not ready.

She hasn't been, and he knows why, mostly, but she also gets nightmares - doesn't make any noise, thankfully, at least not that Sophia can hear, but she's woken up before with aching arms and legs in uncomfortable positions and she wonders if she thrashes in her sleep.

But she doesn't want him to leave - doesn't want to be alone in this apartment without her baby girl, knowing it's for a full _week_ , and she wants to wake up next to him, too.

He must see how sincere she is, because he simply asks, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she whispers, and after a moment, he lays back down, facing her.

Eventually, she drifts off, and when she wakes up in the morning she's pleased to realize she didn't have a nightmare all night.

She also realizes that he's curled up against her, arm flung out across her stomach and head nestled in the cradle of her shoulder, and she can feel his dick pressed up against her.

She's never been a morning sex type of person - even when it was good with Ed, he was usually out of bed and making coffee before she woke up, and when it was bad - why is she thinking about Ed? Fuck that.

She forcibly shoves him out of her mind, focusing instead on running her fingers through Daryl's hair, and she can hear him grumble.

"Hi there," she whispers.

He grunts something unintelligible and stretches, and must immediately realize he's hard against her thigh and quickly scoots away, rubbing at his face.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Good," he mumbles, and turns to look at her. "You?"

"Good."

He must see something on her face, because his cheeks turn pink, and he mutters, "What."

"You're just cute."

"Ain't _cute_."

"You _are_. You got all embarrassed about your morning wood and see? Now you're blushing even harder," she says, because he is. His face is turning redder by the second.

"Stop."

She shrugs against the pillow. "I'm not embarrassed by it." She pauses, and adds, "Can put it to good use, if you want."

His jaw drops open, and she smirks. He's _so_ easy.

"Yeah?" he mumbles.

"Yeah."

With that, he scoots back towards her, and pulls her face towards his.

She wrinkles her nose. "I can _taste_ how gross my mouth smells."

"Mine too. Don't give a shit."

Well, okay then.

He licks into her mouth, and yeah, it's gross, but when he swipes a thumb over her nipple she stops caring, and he runs his hand down her sternum to her stomach, and something swoops low in her belly when he hums into her mouth.

He lightly scratches his fingers through her pubic hair and rolls the pad of his index finger against her clit and she shivers, throwing her leg over his and kissing his neck.

But then he touches the inside of her thigh, and she doesn't have time to be embarrassed about his come crusted there from last night before he rumbles, " _Fuck_ , that's hot," into her ear, and she feels a flush working its way up through her chest.

At that, he rolls her over on her back, kissing down her body, and she wonders if this is something he likes - if he _likes_ tasting himself inside of her, and another bolt of heat shoots through her at that.

He seems to like it well enough, judging by the sloppy, frantic way he's eating her out, and she comes almost before she knows it.

Without hesitation, he's hovering back over her, fingers still inside her, and he breathes, "Can I?"

She nods. "Yeah, _please_ , god," and he groans again.

"Carol, fuckin' - chrissake -" and when he slips inside her she can _feel_ how wet she is, how easy he slides all the way in, and she shudders.

He scoops her up in his arms, gently rocking against her, and if she thought their fuck against his wall outdoors was close to lovemaking, she's got no words to describe _this_.

It's slow, slower than she's ever had, and every inch of her is pressed up against him. He's murmuring into her ear, telling her how _beautiful_ she is and how _incredible_ she feels and how _good_ she's making _him_ feel, and in that moment it hits her that he loves her, so, so deeply.

If it were any other time, she thinks, she'd be out the fucking door, but as it is, she just moans, the flush reaching her cheeks and forcing out the strangest kinds of whimpers she's ever made, and when she hitches her legs up higher around his waist, he hits a spot inside her that makes her _keen_.

He groans, and angles to hit it again, and again, and again, over and over as she can feel it building but she can't worm a hand between them to get to her clit, they're too close together, and suddenly she's _there_ and she gasps, loud and hard, and _squeezes_ him tight.

He chokes out, " _Fuck_ , I - you, oh, _fuck_ , Carol -" and cups her face in his hands, catching her eyes before kissing her desperately, and she feels him jerk his hips one, twice, and then it's hot inside her, and he's shuddering, and she skims her fingers down his sides.

He shudders again, breathing heavily into her mouth, and she's not doing much better, but his eyes are shut and he starts kissing down her neck, and she waits until the throbbing between her thighs fades before moving.

He winces, and slowly pulls out, collapsing at her side and she turns to face him.

"Hey," she whispers, running her thumb along his jawline, and he opens his eyes.

Sheer adoration is bright on his face, and it almost _hurts_ to look at it - she bites her lips and kisses him sweetly, trying to put everything she can't say into it, and god, she's so lucky. She's so _happy_.

She _chose_ this, she _chose_ him, she knew it would be _good_ with him, but she had no idea _how_ good. No idea how genuinely, purely _happy_ she'd be.

They've got plenty to untangle, both between themselves and on their own, but she feels so confident that she can do it. _They_ can do it.

She finally believes that it'll be different with him - it already is. It's already so unlike everything she's had before, and it's because she _chose_ it.

She can make good choices, for good reasons, with good results, and after living so long without ever having the chance, she can do it, over and over again.

The rest of her life is laid out before her, choice by choice, and she can make it. She knows she can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is. Thanks for reading! I might do timestamps in the future, who knows, but this was so much fun to write, even if parts of it were tough.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!


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